Hero (Book Two) Page 2

  The soldiers disperse, and I follow the hallway toward Norma’s bedroom. When I knock, her quiet voice invites me in. A pang of something hits me. It might be sadness, but that wouldn’t make sense. When I used to knock on Norma’s door, it was because I was lonely in my unit, and the memories of my parents were haunting me. But that life is not something to long for. Maybe the pang was relief.

  Norma is lying on her bed, head propped on a pillow, reading. She pats the mattress.

  “Come sit by me,” she says. Another pang. Another familiar invitation. Maybe what I’m feeling is gratitude, because for weeks I thought she was dead.

  When I settle on the mattress, Norma sets her book on a table and takes my hand.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she says to me. “I was hoping to have some time with you before the journey.”

  I smile and lift her hand to kiss it.

  “Thank you for agreeing to go to the cabin,” I say. Norma sighs.

  “I’m not sure it was a matter of agreeing,” she says, grinning. “But that young man out there knows what he’s doing. If he says I should go, I’ll not argue.”

  “Thank you,” I say again, quieter. If I know she’s safe, I’ll be less distracted in the valley. That’s why Cash wanted me to go. But it’s different.

  “He wanted me to go to,” I say. Norma scoots until she’s sitting, her back against a pillow. She nods, a knowing look on her face.

  “I don’t blame him,” she says softly. “You’ve become something to him, Hannah. He didn’t have a safe place before you. I see that when you’re together. You make him feel safe.”

  “How could I?”

  She runs a hand down my hair. “Not safe from danger,” she says. “Safe from judgment. Safe to be known.”

  I don’t answer. I’d never thought of it that way before. But I do want him to feel safe with me.

  A comfortable silence follows. I breathe in the scent of this place. Her room smells like vanilla. I feel the same longing I did with Cash; I wish I could stay in this. I know I’m right to return to the valley, but this moment could drag on…and I wouldn’t mind.

  Norma shifts, scooting her body closer to the wall.

  “Lie back and rest,” she says. “Your body is still mending.”

  “I shouldn’t be disturbing you—”

  Norma throws me a disapproving look. “I think we’re past all of that,” she says. “Don’t you?”

  When she smiles, I can’t help smiling back. I stretch my body over the soft mattress and rest my head on a pillow. My eyes close, and before long I’m drifting.

  “Not so fast,” Drew says, laughing. “Being shot by you is not how I see this whole thing ending.”

  I draw my hand back. We’re in a garage attached to the side of the house. The wall-sized exterior door is raised, letting in the wind. On a table before us lies a handgun. It is meant for me.

  “Is it…are there bullets in it?”

  Drew grins. “Not a chance.”

  I roll my eyes and reach for the gun again. I stop when his hand hovers over its grip, fingers splayed, blocking me. His expression darkens.

  “It’s not loaded. But you treat it like it is. Get me? It isn’t…but it is. Understand?”

  Ian grunts. He stands to my left, arms crossed, watching with a smug expression. Something has shifted in him today. Yesterday he was grinning. Today stress pulls at his features. I shouldn’t be taken off guard by it. I’ve only known Ian a matter of days.

  “We don’t have time for this,” he says, snatching the gun from the table. He shoves a rectangular case into the base of the grip and slides a bullet into place.

  “Dude!” Drew takes a wide step back, grabbing my arm and dragging me with him.

  “There’s no time to train her like a rookie,” Ian says. “Follow me, Hannah.” He doesn’t wait for me to agree. A few seconds later, he’s standing outside. I look at Drew.

  “Just watch where you point it,” he mutters. He nods his head toward Ian, telling me to go ahead, and he follows close behind.

  Outside, the wind smells like smoke. I look toward the mountains, and worry creeps into my chest. Something in the valley is burning, and if I can smell it this far, it is big.

  “Watch me,” Ian says. He plants his feet, one slightly forward. Extending his firing arm and supporting with the other hand, he shouts, “Goin’ hot!” before firing three shots at a narrow, wooden post twenty yards ahead of us. My hands try to jerk upward to cover my ears, but I resist it. This is my life now. Shrinking is no longer an option.

  I wait for Ian to talk, expecting him to make me try it too. But he’s still staring off toward the post.

  “Well aren’t you somethin’,” Drew says. “You’ve killed a hunk of wood. How about we let Hannah give it a try now?”

  “I can’t shoot that post,” I say quickly. “It’s too narrow.”

  Ian lowers his eyes. It looks like he’s folding away his thoughts, putting them back in their place. He’s struggling to return to the moment. He looks at me, and I’m taken back a few days to when he rescued me from death.

  Lockwood. Kind eyes. Dark and trustworthy.

  He attempts a smile. “That post is your target now. Can’t has no place in that valley. You know that.”

  I want to argue, to say that it’s impossible for me to shoot that post. I’ll kill somebody. But he’s right. I’ve made it my target, because now I have to prove to myself that I can.

  “Clear out!” Drew shouts. A few soldiers nearby turn on their heels, clearing the area. I raise an eyebrow at him. He winks. “Not how they wanna die either.”

  This makes me laugh. When the skin on my face stretches with a grin, I feel the tight places where the Council burned me. There’s tenderness in my jaw, where the guard beat me. Even smiling has a cost.

  “Stand here,” Ian says, carefully holding my arm and positioning me. He sets the gun in my hands. “Get used to the feeling.”

  It’s heavier than I imagined. I hold it out as far as my arms will stretch. I’ve never been on this side of a weapon, and I’m not sure I like it. It feels like too much power. One squeeze of my finger, and a life is gone. How does anyone make that kind of decision?

  “Bend your knees a little,” Ian says. “Set the foot on your shooting side back just slightly.” I try to do what he’s saying, but it’s hard when all my attention is focused on not dropping the gun.

  “Now lean from your waist. Not too much. There. You want a strong foundation to absorb the recoil.”

  He’s still going, still positioning me and telling me how to do this, but I don’t want to anymore. I can’t have this kind of control over another life. I can’t be the one to decide if they live or die. Guns are such small things. Alone they’re harmless. But it’s my hands that frighten me. It’s my reflexes. I shake my head. This was a bad idea.

  “You okay?” Drew murmurs. But Ian doesn’t stop.

  “Bring your head lower. These are your sites,” he says, touching small ridges on the front and back of the barrel. “Use them as guides when you’re aiming.”

  “Ian, I don’t think I’m ready,” I say. My hands tremble, and my throat is too tight.

  “Listen, buddy—” Drew says, but Ian interrupts.

  “Ready isn’t an option anymore. You’re gonna have to learn to defend yourself in that valley, Hannah. Look at that post. Imagine Titus. Did he ask if you were ready when he tried to kill you?”

  Cold washes over me. “I can’t-”

  “You can. You just don’t know because you’ve never tried. Come on,” Ian urges. “Imagine that post is Titus.”

  What he doesn’t understand, what none of them understand, is that Titus looks like Cash. I can’t imagine Titus without remembering that he is Cash’s father. My heart beats too fast. Is this what the Watcher saw when my father was shot? Did he stare down the barrel of his gun this way? Did he tremble? Was the choice easy? I close my eyes, and my breaths come heavy.

  “
Hey,” a low voice murmurs by my ear. A warm hand touches my waist, and the other hand gently extracts the gun from my panicked grip.

  “Take a deep breath,” Cash says. “You’re okay, Hannah.”

  I lower my hands, leaving my eyes closed. Balling my fists, I breathe even until the panic is gone. Heat creeps up my face. I told Meli I was ready, but maybe I was wrong.

  “Sorry,” Ian says quietly. I could tell him that he didn’t know, that he couldn’t have predicted that I would react this way, but that isn’t true. He was a Watcher. Maybe he should have known. His footsteps retreat.

  “I tried to stop him, man,” Drew says.

  “It’s all right,” Cash replies.

  After a pause, Drew says, “I’ll see you guys back inside.” He leaves, and I am left standing with Cash, my teeth clenched, my eyes refusing to open.

  “What happened?” he asks quietly behind me.

  I press my lips tight and breathe out hard through the nose. Now I’m angry, because fear always wins with me.

  “I can’t do it,” I say. “I can’t…I don’t want to kill anyone.”

  “I know you don’t,” he says. “But Lockwood is right. You don’t have a choice.”

  I pull free and turn to face him. I want to be mad, but his expression is heavy. The sight of it drains me.

  “You’re choosing to go back into the valley,” he says. “You want to protect Ben. But you can’t do that if you don’t know how to defend yourself in a real battle situation.”

  “It’s not just me,” I say, louder than I meant. “None of us know how to defend ourselves!”

  “But you can,” he says, careful with his tone. “And you will.” He studies me. I look away when the tension is too thick. He sighs.

  “What else happened?”

  It takes me a few seconds to say it. I’m not sure how he’ll react.

  “Titus,” I say.

  Cash looks away and nods.

  “Ian told me to imagine that the post was Titus. But then I thought about my father…I don’t trust myself to decide when a person should die.”

  “In there,” Cash says, pointing to the mountains. “It will be you or them. If you don’t shoot, you will die.” He says it hard. This is why he wanted me to go to the cabin.

  I hold his gaze. I need him to believe that I am willing to do what it takes, even if I’m not sure of it myself.

  Cash steps closer. “I may not want you to go, but that doesn’t mean I think you’re incapable. You can do this.”

  You can do this. It’s what he said to me under the fire escape when we stole the medicine. Edan’s face flashes in my thoughts, and I feel a rush of sadness.

  We’re quiet for a minute. The wind whips through our clothes, unsettling our hair. The sun is high now, the day half spent. I can feel the seconds ticking, reminding me that tonight I will sleep somewhere on the mountain pass.

  Cash looks to the gun he’s holding at his side. That gun is meant to be strapped to my body, an extension of me, my protection. I exhale hard.

  “Show me,” I say. “Teach me how to shoot it.”

  “That’s all you’re taking?”

  Meli stands in the bedroom doorway, leaning against the frame. She hugs a pack of supplies to her stomach, and her eyes laugh at me.

  “I don’t need anything else,” I say. The clothes I’m wearing belonged to Cash’s mother: a pair of dark green pants and a black sweatshirt with a hood. Drew told me to choose clothes that match the natural things outside. On the bed is a backpack with one extra outfit. Cash said to take anything I need, but I can’t get myself to do it. It feels wrong to go through her things. Meli shakes her head.

  “Not even one dress? Come on.” She crosses to the rocking chair. The green dress is draped over the back—the one I wore my first day here. “You can’t tell me you don’t need this.”

  I shrug. “The effects of slavery, I guess. I don’t need anything.”

  Meli gives me a pointed look. “But you aren’t a slave, Hannah. Remember? Maybe you don’t need the dress. But you’re allowed to want it.”

  I shake my head, avoiding her eyes. “I don’t want it. And I can’t see why I’d need it in the valley.”

  Meli sighs. “Well, you’ve got me there,” she mutters, walking back to the door. In this dim lighting, with a lamp glowing from the corner table, the shadows accentuate the high bones in her cheeks. Before exiting, she throws me a soft smile. “Just try to find something that isn’t practical. Just one thing. Trust me on this.”

  I don’t respond, and when she leaves, I try to focus on finishing my tasks. But my eyes keep drifting back to the dress. It makes no sense to bring it. I’ll have no reason to wear it. I stare at it for a minute, trying to decide if Meli is right. Should I allow myself to want it? It seems ridiculous—a dress. The valley isn’t a place for pretty clothes. I turn away and finish packing. Before I zip the backpack, I grab the dress and shove it in the bottom. If nothing else, it will make a warm blanket for Ben.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and run my fingers over the book of pictures Meli gave me. It sits on the bedside table, opened to an image of the ocean. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine what the water might sound like when it moves and flows. I want to believe that someday I’ll be standing there, my feet soaked, the air warm and comforting. But I can’t be sure. I close the book and press it into the backpack too.

  On the dresser lies my gun, pointed toward the wall; I thought it might go off and kill me while I packed. Probably stupid. I sling the backpack over a shoulder and stand in front of the dresser, staring at the weapon. Cash showed me how to turn the safety on and off. I made him demonstrate it a dozen times. Even now, when I know how to use it, I’m wondering if I’m remembering correctly.

  Red means it’s active…able to shoot.

  I rise on my toes to check, careful not to bump the dresser. The lever is lowered, pointing at a white dot. The safety is on.

  “It’s on, Hannah,” I mutter. “Pick up the gun.”

  I clench my hand into a fist, squeezing for a few seconds. The power of it scares me.

  I grab the gun and slide it behind my back into a wide, tight band Cash gave me to wear under my shirt. Before leaving, I turn again and look over the room. I stare at the bed and find I’m sad to leave it. I try not to think about the cold ground I’ll be sleeping on tonight.

  The air in the hall feels different. That room was warmth and safety. It was the soup from Cash and Norma’s gentle hands touching my hair. But the moment I step into the hall, I’m filled with anxiety so strong I have to breathe against it.

  3

  The air is cold tonight. There are more of us than I realized. All around me are dozens of strange faces, people with more color, more life, in just their skin than I’ve ever seen. They haven’t lived under a blanket of smog; their skin is nurtured by the sun. We stand in groups outside, the moonlight making all our faces glow. Yellow light pours from the windows of the house, making our shadows long and strange.

  I stand near Cash, a step behind him so his body blocks the wind. I’m trying not to appear needy, so I put some distance between us while he’s deep in conversation with some of the men. If he thinks I’m too weak, he might change his mind and insist I stay at the cabin with Norma. The truth is I am weak. But I won’t admit it. If I don’t say the words, I don’t think he’ll say anything either.

  All around me, soldiers are talking, going over plans and speculating about what to expect when we get there. Most of them have never been on that side of the mountains. I feel sorry for them. Their eyes are gleaming, anticipating what they will see. I don’t have the heart to tell them, so I just listen.

  When Ian appears at my side, I offer a smile, but his expression never lifts. He turns toward the mountains, chewing his lip, eyebrows pulled low.

  “They have no idea,” he murmurs. His eyes touch mine for a second. They’re sad.

  I face the mountains too. I’ve been avoiding looking a
t them. They’re frightening at night. I love them in the day. When the sun is out, they are powerful walls that protect us. But now, with the moonlight casting shadows through the trees, they taunt me. I shiver when a gust of wind hits us.

  “I wish they didn’t have to go,” I say. “I wish no one ever had to.”

  Ian nods. He looks at his feet, shifting. When he looks up again, he says, “Imagine what it’ll be like…after. No more factories. No more bodies dying in the streets.” His head shakes. “Hard to picture.”

  I don’t answer, but I agree. It’s hard to imagine the valley being anything else. I don’t like to spend too much time trying. Not yet.

  Cash turns to us, patting Ian hard on the shoulder. Ian straightens.

  “Ready?” Cash asks, squeezing Ian’s shoulder and giving it a shake. There’s a hint that he might smile sitting just on the edge of his lips, but he never does. I don’t blame him. There are very few things to smile about. But apparently Drew doesn’t agree. He stalks across the grass, the shadows pulling back from his face the closer he comes to the lights of the house, and his grin is wide and toothy.

  “Let’s get your lazy bones moving!” he bellows, clapping his hands once before rubbing them together for warmth.

  “So eager!” Meli teases, approaching from behind me. I turn and smile at the strange look she’s giving him.

  “But then, you were always the first to volunteer in training,” she says, shoving her hands in the pockets of her pants and tilting her head, eyes narrowing in thought. “First to the medic tent too, right? Yeah, I’ll never forget that first day—”

  “Hey—!”

  “—when you cried—”

  “I didn’t cry!” Drew throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, come on, Mel. We’re not all robots like you.”

  Meli jumps at Drew, who dodges. The two amble off toward the piles of gear. Just before I turn back to Cash, Meli shoves Drew in the arm, and he stumbles in wide steps to the right. As he’s regaining his balance, he turns to us again, pointing, and calls out, “I mean it! Move your butts!”