The Revealed (16 page)

“I barely know him,” I say.

Elias’s eyes narrow. “Right.” And just when I think he’s going to leave it alone, he adds, “You really believe that?”

“I think I’m going to call it a day.”

Elias watches me for a minute with a knowing look. “No, come here.” He calls me back and holds the bag. He nods with his head for me to hit. I swing and connect. The bag sways from the force of my blow. I’ve improved so much in the time I’ve trained with him.

Again, I drill into the bag. For Rory, who gets to follow her heart while I’m left behind. For my dad, who used to be so much more than my father. He was my friend and mentor but is now almost a stranger. And can I blame him for the distance when he knows his daughter’s time is almost up, and he doesn’t know how to deal with the fear? For my mother who should have a daughter that prefers high heels and parties to boxing. And, of course, for Kai. But it isn’t just for Kai. It’s for me. It’s for what I could have, maybe, almost had with him. If only we’d just had a little more time. And now it’s over. It’s over because I’m nearly over. While everyone else gets to build lives, I’m stuck. I got caught in the whirlpool while everyone else continued floating down the river.

“Whoa,” Elias steadies me with a hand.

I collapse my face in my hands, feeling frazzled and uncontrolled. I strip the gloves from my hands. “I should go.”

“Hey,” he squeezes my shoulder then pulls me into a hug. It’s startling and all at once comforting. My breathing is shaky. “Take care of yourself, okay? Everything will turn out how it’s supposed to. Life has a funny way of working out how it should.”

I’m hard-pressed to believe him. But who am I to kill his optimism so I just nod. “I’ll be back soon.”

I grab my bag and head out.

My father’s office is a fifteen-minute drive, straight down Pennsylvania Avenue after the freeway, and I plan on stopping in to see if he wants to grab lunch. Maybe, just maybe, we can talk like we used to.

Jeremy is still waiting at the door when I get outside.

“I’m going to use the restroom before we leave, if you don’t mind,” he tells me.

“Okay, I’ll be in the car.”

I walk back out to the parking lot and decide to pull the car around to the front and wait for him.

I get in the car and reach for the seatbelt. It sears my flesh.

“Ow!” I wince and yank my hand from the metal. I bring the burn to my mouth and then pull it away. A red blister swells.

What in the world?

It’s almost October and it’s chilly outside today. How did my seatbelt get so scorching hot?

I touch it again, quickly to avoid a burn. But the metal is already cool. I touch it once more just to be sure. The heat is gone. The welt on my hand remains. Heat pulses through my finger. The injury is bad enough that I can’t pretend the burn is only a product of my overactive imagination. But I can’t figure out how the seatbelt got that hot.

Carefully, I start the car. The engine smoothly hums to life. For the second time, I dare to try and fasten my seatbelt. I move to shift into reverse but my hand connects with ice and slips from the gear. There is ice on my steering wheel. And it’s growing, spreading across the wheel like it’s alive.

I pull my seatbelt off and stare in horror as the ice crystallizes over the wheel.

In a panic, I throw open the door and stumble away from the car.

My eyes scan the surrounding area as I scramble to get away. I trip over my shoes, landing on the concrete a few feet from my car. It’s The Revealed. It has to be The Revealed.

I try to regain my footing to run back inside the gym. I don’t even have time to stand before I’m blasted by a wave of heat and an explosion so loud it blocks out every other sense in my body. It’s like a shockwave rippling through my skin.

Instinctively, I duck down and cover my face with my arms.

Heat rushes over my body, and bits of glass sting my skin.

My ears ring, but the blast subsides. I cautiously lower my arms. The car is still burning, smoke billowing from the windows.

People run outside the building. Elias races to my side and grabs my arms, trying to get me to look at him.

“Lily.” He shakes me lightly. “Are you okay?”

I can’t tear my eyes away from the car.

The Revealed aren’t trying to take me.

They’re trying to kill me.

Scratch my countdown. It doesn’t matter that I have 212 days until my nineteenth birthday. Those days stretch out as an infinity before me. The Revealed will take care of me long before then.

“Someone call the police!” Elias shouts.

As if on cue, the sound of sirens echoes in the distance.

Jeremy runs outside, sees me and the car, and flips out.

“What happened?” He sprints to my side. “Jesus! Lily, are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” I mumble.

The police pull into the parking lot with the bomb squad.

A paramedic kneels down next to me. “Lily Atwood?”

I nod, confused.

He’s wearing gloves and carrying a medical kit.

“I need everyone to back away!” one of the officers is ordering.

“How did you know to be here?” I ask the paramedic as he dabs antiseptic on the cuts from the glass.

“There was an anonymous call. Someone said you were here and that they believed there was a bomb in your car.”

The paramedics take me to the hospital just in case, though nothing is broken or seriously injured. Just the burn and a few minor cuts and bruises. Other than that, I’m fine.

Of course, it takes four hours, while I’m lying in a hospital bed, for them to tell me that. Normally it would take longer, but because I’m a “priority patient,” they run all of the tests quickly.

Jeremy is right at my side the entire time, apologizing over and over. “I should have never gone inside,” he says. “I should have stayed right with you.”

“If you’d stayed right with me, we both would have been killed.”

“Lily, this is entirely my fault. I should have been watching more closely.” His face is full of guilt.

“None of us could have known this was going to happen, Jeremy.”

“It’s not just that,” he says. “I really think of you guys like family. Looking out for your well-being isn’t just my job, it’s a personal responsibility.”

I take Jeremy’s hand. “Then trust me,” I say. “You couldn’t have prevented this, and I’ll be the first to tell my father that. It wasn’t your fault. Really.”

My parents both show up. I would like to say I’m surprised, but their arrival is probably more to do with the press, which has no doubt gotten wind of my ordeal by now. Again, I will be front-page news. It seems to be a trending theme in my life. Every move I make draws some sort of attention from the media.

Everyone seems to want to take the blame for what happened, including my mother.

“I should have never let you go out.” She paces as the nurses push me in a wheelchair out to the awaiting limo. Luckily, the press is kept at bay.

“Mom, I’m fine.”

My father grips my hand, and that’s all I need from him. There’s a terror behind his eyes I’ve never seen in him. He looks visibly shaken, more than I am, and he folds into the chair next to me in the car. He rests his other hand on top of mine.

“If you hadn’t gotten out of that car you would have been killed,” my mother continues her hysterics.

I look away from my father and back to her, “I wasn’t killed, though. I’m okay.”

“Yes, well, we’re lucky you noticed something was wrong and got out of that car.” She waves her hands around wildly.

“Dad,” I address him, hoping he can be the rational one here. “I didn’t notice something was wrong. I saw ice forming on my steering wheel. That’s noticing a lot more than just something wrong,” I tell her. “It was The Revealed.”

The sound of their name makes her suck in a breath.

“They weren’t trying to take me. They were trying to kill me.”

The burns and bruises heal, and life goes back to normal. The country doesn’t soon forget my ordeal, but they’re swept up by the more important topic of the election. It’s only five weeks away.

I stare out my balcony window at the front gate and imagine the Audi that never arrived. There is so much I wish I could say. It’s harder and harder to remember him. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he’s even real—like the boy I met was a ghost.

And now all that’s left is my solitude. Especially following the bombing. All I feel is anticipation, waiting for The Revealed to come and finish the job. I don’t feel defeated, just tired. All the time, tired.

One hundred ninety-five days until—

I cut the thought off abruptly. It isn’t healthy to dwell on the impossible. Better to accept it and move on.

I turn from the window, calling it an early night again. I crawl into bed and stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep.

When I wake up, the remnants of a dream hang in my memory. A dream that fills me with longing. One with cherry trees and long road trips. Kai is in the car with me, his brown hair tossing in the wind of the convertible we’re driving in. He’s laughing with me, and the sun is hitting our faces. The warmth of it feels good. I want to curl around it and hold it forever. It’s what I want—a life like that. I don’t want to be afraid. I don’t want to wait in dread and intimidation. That’s exactly the reaction The Revealed are hoping for. But I can’t live that way—waiting for them to come and finish the job.

I get dressed, fix my hair, and go down the hall to the far wing of the house.

My mother is in her bedroom, working over her desk. Paying bills, by the looks of it.

“I think I’m going to visit Dad,” I say.

My mother looks up warily. “No.”

“I wasn’t asking permission.” I decided to tell her this time instead of just plotting an escape because, well, for one I don’t have Kai to mess with the cameras anymore. And two, because I’m trying to make my parents understand that I deserve this freedom. It’s time for me to make my own choices.

“Why can’t you just accept this year as a normal rite of passage?” she sighs.

“Because it isn’t a rite of passage in my case. The Revealed aren’t sending those letters just for fun. I’m the only eighteen-year-old anyone has heard of that’s receiving letters from these people. They’re not just going to go away. They’re going to come for me. I have the rare opportunity to
know
they’re coming. And I don’t want to live my last few months or days stuck inside a house.”

Her jaw is tight and her shoulders tense. I think she’s going to cry—like, actually cry. I’ve never seen my mother come anywhere close to tears.

“Mom—” I have no idea how to comfort her. My words drop and I stand dumbly in the doorway.

“I was never made to be a mother,” she tells me. “Oh I wanted to be, but I don’t know how to do this, Lilith.”

My chest constricts.

She isn’t done. “When the war started, you were so little. You needed so much guidance. Your life was at stake, and I knew how to deal with that. I was ready for the consequences. Your father and I were ready to die for you if we needed to. We were ready to give up our lives. We were ready to hide you from the dangers outside. But now, how do I hide you? How do I keep you from them?” She shakes her head. “Either way, I fail you.”

“You don’t …,” I try to get the words right, “it isn’t your fault.”

“But we’re your parents. We should be able to protect you. And we can’t.”

“I don’t have to go see Dad,” I offer, my voice on the verge of cracking.

“No. Go.”

I cross the room and throw my arms around her. We’ve never been touchy-feely with one another, and she tenses when I wrap my arms around her. I don’t care. I hold her close anyway.

Then I’m out the door.

“Take Jeremy with you,” she calls, her voice level again.

I nod and wave consent over my shoulder.

Jeremy actually insists I stand fifty feet away from any of the vehicles while he starts the car and drives it to the front of the house.

“No more mistakes,” he says as he gets out, offering me the driver’s seat.

I stare at the steering wheel. All I see when I look at it are flames licking up the sides and the interior melting away.

“Come on.” Jeremy nods his head.

I take a deep breath. I can do this. I have to do this. I won’t let my fears keep me inside these gates. I get in the car and shift into drive in one quick motion. The car doesn’t explode. Nothing bad happens.

“They have you pretty nervous, huh?” Jeremy asks.

I nod.

“You’d be crazy not to be afraid. But don’t worry. I won’t let anyone get close to you without going through me first.” I see the hint of a proud smile light under his eyes.

“You’ve saved my life enough times this year. I think you deserve a vacation after all this.”

“Oh, I’ll get one,” he agrees.

Past the gate, I steer onto the freeway, going well under the speed limit the entire drive. I usually never go under the speed limit.

Once I reach Pennsylvania Avenue, I practically crawl across the road. The fifteen-minute drive turns into more like twenty, but Jeremy doesn’t say a word. He lets me take my time and overcome the fear on my own. Though we pull into a guarded garage, Jeremy wants to stay in the car, just in case.