Vanished (16 page)

She hesitated, frozen in place. Anger surged through her first, followed by wonder.
He’d synced with her, and she hadn’t even noticed. Until now.

His face shifted to shock, as if his words sank
and her reaction made sense to him as well. He staggered back, his expression filled with horror. His impassive face took on a stony resolution.

“Controlling you… isn’t protection. It’s wrong.” He pulled his pistol and her heart jack hammered in her chest. He lifted it, his eyes on her and she backed up a step.

Sorrow painted his expression. “After everything, you’re still scared I’d hurt you?”

She screamed as
he snapped the gun to his head. Her own hand answered, jerking the cold muzzle of Vendas’ pistol against her temple.

The frozen lungs
refused to draw a breath and her chest screamed. Radek stared at her, his face twisted in panic and anger.

“Put it down.” His forceful order resounded through the room.

Her hand trembled, fighting the need to do as he said. “No.” Her whisper, at odds with her lowering hand, challenged him. Fighting to keep control, she squeezed her eyes closed, the gun tapping her head, her quaking limbs fighting her mind. She wouldn’t give in. She couldn’t.

“Put it down!” His bark slashed into her.

“You said it was wrong!” The weapon lowered by inches, his exertion winning out. His hand dropped, and she put the pistol on the ground. She straightened up in time to be crushed against his chest. Angry blue eyes followed hers.

“You’re stupid, you know that, right?”

“You’re domineering.” Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Never again.” His lips touched hers. He pulled back, his growl overwhelming her
. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“You did it.”

“Forgive me.” His nose tickled against her cheek, his quiet whisper tickling her ear.

“Never.” Despite the negative response, she felt the anger slip away. “Don’t control me.”

“I’ll ask next time.” Soft lips tagged hers again, his teeth nibbling her mouth. His arms tightened, begging her to melt.

Breathless from his kisses, she whispered, “Promise?”

He nodded. “Want to go outside?”

“It’s dangerous out there.” She tilted her head, closing her eyes when he nipped her chin.

“Not as dangerous as it is in here.”

Startled, she glanced at him, noting his narrowed eyes and tense posture. She sensed a storm brewing and broke away, heading to the airlock. Spinning, she placed her hands on her hips, challenging him to join her.

He stooped, picking up the pistol she’d set down and grinned at Vendas’ groan. “I owed you one anyway. Consider it payback for sleeping with her.”

He bounded to her with quick steps, stopping short. “Wait, you couldn’t have used this. It’s right handed.”

“Maybe you don’t know everything about me.”

“Maybe I want to.”

“I doubt it.”

He pressed the gun into her hand,
body angled her direction until the door opened. “No buildings, I lead.”

“Yes, sir.”
Her sarcasm drew an apologetic glance from him, but his face wrinkled with frustration before growing impassive.

“Would you like to lead?”

She shook her head, falling into step next to him. Side by side, they slipped out into golden light. The sun sank behind the trees, unwilling to watch their insubordination. Radek made his way across the field toward the trees, his stride short. Able to keep up easily, she stayed by his side, watching the overgrown weeds for any sign of danger.

The trees pressed in on them, their piney scent overpowering. Radek scanned the area, before turning to her.

“Show me.” He nudged a chin at the tree. “Please?” He added, chagrined, the order softening to a question.

“Show you?” Her brows crashed together, confusion creeping in.

He shifted, dark blue eyes leaving her face to scan the perimeter again. “How to climb.”

It occurred t
o her that, since her father had been a tech, she’d experienced many things he had not. Her childhood playground consisted of earth-like learning, while his likely contained more mundane obstacle courses.

“Well, to be safe, we should have gear.”

“You didn’t. I’d like to learn. Please?” The order turned question again earned him a quick grin.

She put the gun in her holster, snagging a lower branch. Lifting her legs up, she wrapped them around the wood. With a quick swing, she righted herself and grabbed a higher branch.

“Well, pick only ones that should support your weight. If it’s shifting, cracking or doesn’t feel right, get off it. I don’t really know how to explain it. It kind of came naturally to me.” She hesitated, straightening to stand, feet planted firmly.

He grabbed the next branch over, using one arm to hoist himself. Without using his legs, he reached up to the next, hauling his weight without trouble. 

She giggled. “Use your legs. This isn’t a rope. Your whole body should work together. Think more like a ladder. Rhythm, arms, legs, timing, just with more uneven and less trustworthy rungs. She made her way up further, hooking her knees over a branch. She hung down, just out of his reach.

With a foot planted, he stepped up. His lips met hers, a hand tangling in her hair. She pulled away. “You should keep three points grounded, always.” She motioned to her arm, bracing below
then her legs above.

His arm wrapped the rough bark, his free fingers capturing her collar. His dark eyes locked on hers, pupils growing, deepening into voids she could lose herself in. He pulled her close, his lips near her ear.

“Thank you.” He released her, sidestepping and making his way up past her. She sat up, grinning, before reaching up as far as the tree would hold. Radek at her side, she stared out over the skyline.

Crumbling buildings blended into the plant life overtaking it, and she shivered. With a glance at Radek, she wondered if it was the fate of the weak to be overtaken by the strong. He stared out over the scene.

“The buildings, locked in place, have no chance. The plants change, grow, adapt. Odd to think that, by adapting, something man controlled will swallow every trace of his existence.”

Confused that he seemed to know what was on her mind, she glanced at him.

“Nothing can stay constant and survive.” His eyes strayed to hers, their dark blue depths threatening to swallow her.

“Change is inevitable.” Her words faded into the
music of the night. With a deep breath, she fell silent, drawing out every noise and naming them. A symphony of crickets chirping. Offbeat croaking of bullfrogs. The trilling, twittering songs of birds.

“Yes.” The scrape of bark rustled as he leaned toward her, readjusting his stance, his back on the trunk of the tree. Wind clattered the branches together like cackling women, d
arkness eased over the land, coating everything in silken shadows. She inhaled, enjoying the scent of water, pine and mint.

“What do we do now?”

He didn’t hesitate. “What do you want to do now?”

She pondered the options. He was bound to her now, whether they liked it or not.
He’d feel her pain, he could sway her choices, though had promised not to. And she… perhaps didn’t love him, but had very strong feelings. The fact that he had so much power over her and chose not to use it willingly meant more to her than almost any other gesture. Being willing to give his life rather than control her made her wonder…

“Do you love me?” The words burst out before she could stop herself.

He stared out over the decaying city. “I do. You’re strong, not afraid to stand up for what matters to you and for yourself. You don’t take no for an answer and you went through hell and still came up swinging. I doubt I have even half your strength, and I’m consistently amazed by you.”

Tears gathered, a lump aching in her throat. In a gesture almost too small to see, he shifted toward her. His arm bumped hers. The pain eased with the contact.

Silence settled over them, but she didn’t mind. His easy stance clued her in to his comfort as well, and she couldn’t help but be glad he didn’t press her about how she’d answer the question if he asked.

“Is it okay if I’m not there?” Biting down on her lip for her clumsy words, she
adjusted her footing. He didn’t react at first, and seemed to be considering his answer.

“Of course it’s okay, though, if you don’t mind answering, do you think you ever could be?” He met her gaze, his impassive face stony.

“Yes. Just with everything-“

He shook his head, halting her words. “You don’t have to justify, I just wanted to know if there was hope.” He grinned.

She leaned in closer to him. “I have a secret.”

“Are you going to share?” he asked.

“My foot’s asleep. Let’s go.” She swung down, branch by branch. She hit the ground with easy grace, studying the surroundings for any threats. The heavy thud of him landing beside her brought a teasing grin to her lips.

“At least you’re quiet.”

He straightened, staring at her with a quizzical expression. “No need to be quiet, we’re surrounded.”

Terror evoked an icy sheen of sweat along her brow
until Vendas appeared from the shadows.

His dark green eyes flashed between her and Radek. “Just making sure everything was okay.”

“Quite.” Radek began the trek back to the ship, and she followed, the rest of the group trailing behind.

She halted, studying the buildings. It dawned on her that her life was hers now. She no longer belonged to a government that wished to use her or police her.
These people willing to die for her, and her for them.

Her eyes
slipped to Radek, who’d halted and turned to her. He mirrored her posture. They stared out over the buildings, faces illuminated by the ship’s glow.

Joy descended around her, and a smile broke over her face. She had
him
. A soul who could feel her sorrow, comfort her turmoil and would love her no matter what. Someone who asked nothing in return.

Perhaps man’s existence would be swallowed by the very thing he
once controlled, but hers would adapt, would grow, would change. She’d make sure the world evolved with it. Those locked in the old ways would crumble under the force of the strong. A new order would rise, and perhaps this world was the perfect place for the divided to seek shelter.

Epilogue

When I was a little girl, my dad used to tell me a story. A story that delighted me, intrigued me, and filled me with a wonder never matched by anything else. He’d sit right down on my level, his eyes focusing on some spot outside the window that I couldn’t quite see.

I can remember the last time he told me like it was yesterday. The pale waters outside the bubble apartment were filled with summer silverfish, darting to and fro, casting prisms across the room.

He settled down, gathering me into a hug. “Want me to tell it again?” he asked, and I nodded, thinking he needn’t have asked.

“Okay.  In 1974 a simple picture was shot from a modest cobalt-blue planet. This picture contained what we could only determine to be a map. This primitive atlas that outlined a solar system. It also pinpointed the location of a particular celestial body thir
d from its brightest star, Sol.”

“
Along with this map were a few other fascinating snippets of information. Compounds important for life, the structure of a DNA molecule, and the form of a human being. The reason these things fascinated our people was simple: humans could, quite simply, be considered the biological equivalent of twins to our kind.”

“
Our best and brightest minds were set to the task of recreating a human language, which was simply redubbed ‘English.’ Our ability of faster than light travel - based on the study of neutrinos and the fact that the speed of light isn’t constant – meant that my generation would be able to visit these beings so like us.”

I nodded, then realized the story had more, for the first time. He hesitated. Then spoke again.

“I’ll never see it, no, but you, Papria, you will go here one day. You’ll see it, you’ll make a mark there, and here. Just like your mother.”

He was right. I did make a difference. Back home, a full revolution had long since taken place, but honestly, I think bigger changes have taken place here. We never figured out where humanity vanished to. The clues just weren’t complete enough. But we did find other things.

Despite humanity’s vicious, war-like nature and violent tendencies, they accomplished great things, too. Things like music, poetry, the written word in the form of stories we’d never experienced.

But most of all, I think, was their
words speaking of a never-ending struggle for equality, not only between females and males, but races as well, something I feel I understand, having been tormented as an albino all my life.

I thought I understood, until I read further into the dark history of man. I cried, but I also learned. Equality is an ongoing battle. And that is why I have to go back.
I will bring those who wish a brand new start here, and we will rise from the ashes of humanity. We’ll do right by the memory of man, we’ll honor their beauty, we’ll learn from their darkness, transgressions, and mistakes.