The Returning Page 18

  The vehicle bounced Remko up and down as it bumped across the rocky terrain toward the Authority City. He faced forward in the front passenger seat of the car, one CityWatch guard driving, another armed guard sitting behind him in the backseat. Remko’s wrists were bound together in his lap with plastic wire, which left raw, thin cuts with too much movement. It had been several days since they’d left Trylin behind, nothing remaining there except abandoned buildings and lost hope.

  Remko was riding in a different vehicle than the other Seers. After they had all been injected with the Genesis Serum, they had been loaded thirty at a time into the large armored vans that followed behind the smaller car Remko was now riding in. He’d watched as all the people he loved were stripped of their pasts. Wire, Kate, Ramses, each injected with a toxin equipped to steal their memories. Their convictions. Their souls.

  Images of soldiers lifting Dalen’s body from the ground and carrying him off toward a side street haunted him. They’d tossed him out of sight as if he were garbage, his wife’s cries still shaking the sky. Remko had insisted on complete surrender, the physical act of turning the other cheek, and in doing so he had gotten his friend killed. He couldn’t fight off the blame clawing at his insides.

  He’d suspected that Nicolas would have him injected last—another act of unrivaled cruelty, forcing Remko to witness the metaphorical death of everyone around him before being sentenced to the same fate. But still the serum had not been administered to him. Nicolas was more sinister than Remko had wagered. Instead Remko had been loaded into a separate car, all his memories still intact. Now he suffered through the pain of the past as they headed toward the city where he would lose his future.

  His head throbbed and his ribs burned—from what, he wasn’t sure. It was probably the manifestation of his own inner pain. Images of Carrington played on repeat. Her brave stance, the peace that had shown in her face even while Nicolas threatened to break it. Her final plea for her husband to remember who he was. The last moment before her eyes went milky and he’d lost her to Genesis.

  He tried not to succumb to his misery. Not to give in to the hate that told him lies about his identity. He remembered a time not so long ago when the only emotion he’d lived with was self-hatred. A time when he’d gone days without showing himself mercy. Back before the truth had worked its way into his heart.

  There were still moments of threatening darkness, doubt so dense it felt as though he wouldn’t be able to see through it. But he wasn’t the same troubled boy he’d once been. That he was sure of. And as the hours had stretched to days, Remko started to hear the familiar voice of love calling to his soul. Reminding him of his identity and singing a song that was his alone.

  The car he was traveling in came to a stop, jerking Remko forward and out of his thoughts. The two guards in the car with him opened their doors and got out without giving him a glance. He sat, expecting someone to come around and get him, but instead he watched through the windshield as the two men walked over to the other vehicles where soldiers were unloading themselves. They stretched, grabbed water, lit up cigarettes. Remko kept his eyes peeled for Nicolas, bracing his heart and mind for another onslaught of brutality.

  The backseat door popped open, and Remko looked up, expecting to see a black-clad soldier climbing in. He met Aaron’s face in the rearview mirror instead. Shock and relief washed over him as Aaron gave him a comforting smile. Remko whipped around, his hands still bound together in his lap and rubbing together painfully.

  “What are you doing here?” Remko asked.

  “It’s nice to see you too, friend,” Aaron teased.

  “You need to get out of here before any of them see you.”

  “Why? Am I in some sort of trouble?” Aaron’s expression was too casual for the situation, and Remko felt himself becoming annoyed.

  “Their commander—” Remko started.

  “Nicolas, yes. I’ve heard of him. Very lost, isn’t he?” Aaron said, a familiar empathy lacing his tone.

  Remko didn’t respond. Had he forgotten who he was dealing with? This ageless guide, cased in the appearance of an ordinary man, had stopped bullets in front of Remko’s eyes. What was he so worried about? He turned around to look out the windshield and chuckled to himself.

  “Something funny?” Aaron asked.

  “I momentarily forgot who you were,” Remko replied.

  “Like you’ve momentarily forgotten who you are?”

  Remko closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He should have known that would be Aaron’s response. He nodded to himself and heard Aaron chuckle as well. A deep, kind sound that felt renewing. “Yes, that is an unfortunate condition of the ego,” Aaron said. “But no worries. All moments of trouble are love’s way of leading you to truth.”

  “Do you ever wish love would get tired of you and leave you alone?” Remko asked sarcastically.

  Aaron laughed out loud, his voice rumbling the inside of the car, and Remko felt a grin pull at the side of his mouth. Through his laughter Aaron spoke, leaning forward to squeeze Remko’s shoulder. “Even now, in times of great trouble, so much joy can be found. Isn’t life a beautiful thing?”

  Remko smiled fully and shook his head. “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon?”

  “I never really leave you, brother. Think of all we have seen together, all we have experienced. Remember the lessons we have learned.” Aaron held Remko’s gaze through the mirror, and Remko felt his heart lift in his chest.

  “Don’t forget who you are in times of darkness. You are the light of the world, a son of the Father; who can stand against you?”

  “But Carrington—”

  “Have you forgotten who she is? Is she not the same as you, cloaked in power, filled with light? The rest is just a facade. Truth always prevails, my friend. Fear not.”

  Remko sighed and processed Aaron’s words.

  Aaron shrugged. “Or fear if you must; that too is an option. The choice to suffer is always yours.”

  Yes, Remko thought. Even in this time of darkness, he could choose the light.

  His head jerked forward and he opened his eyes to see that the car was still traveling through the wilderness, both CityWatch guards at their usual stations, the rest of the caravan moving ahead slowly. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and reopened them, shaking his head. He must have fallen asleep. Images of Aaron’s smile and the echo of his words drifted through his mind. He grinned to himself. He should have known.

  A few moments later, the car did pull up to a stop. The two guards exited the vehicle and joined the others, but this time Remko’s door opened, revealing Nicolas’s face.

  Remko’s first reaction was to let his fear and anger rear up in response, but Aaron’s words played like music in the back of his mind.

  Nicolas looked Remko up and down, his face twisted in mocking concern. “You don’t look so good.”

  Remko again recognized the fiery rage threatening to rise through his belly and instead picked the peace that snuffed it out. The stillness of truth filled his body. It was clearly not the reaction Nicolas had hoped for, because the angry twitch that moved through his face flared to life. He yanked Remko from the car and out into the blaring sun. The movement tore open pain in Remko’s stiff body, and nausea rolled inside his gut.

  Remko’s clear discomfort gave Nicolas pleasure. “Not so good at all.” He held Remko close so that Remko could smell his vile breath. Once again, Remko was faced with a choice: suffering or light; hate or perfect love. A soft breeze wafted past his shoulders and Remko instantly thought of the greater power that called him His son. And he chose light.

  “Maybe I should have a medic check you over. It would be a shame to have you die before we arrived in the Authority City,” Nicolas said.

  Remko hardly heard him, so great was the joy of love bubbling up inside. He started to chuckle soft and steady, causing Nicolas to pause. His face twisted, first with curiosity, then with rage as Remko’s glee continued. The air swirling arou
nd Remko’s body grew in speed and set his skin ablaze with the truth of who he was. It danced in a beautiful rhythm and filled him with perfect power. His laughter became bold and shook his shoulders as Nicolas looked on with frustration and the soldiers ahead started to stare.

  “What could you possibly have to laugh about?” Nicolas spat.

  “Death,” Remko said. He took a deep breath through his laughing spell, controlled himself, and looked Nicolas straight in the eyes. “Death is an illusion.”

  Nicolas looked taken aback. Shock washed across his face, and before he could respond, a tremendous wind rocked around them. It swooped down over the forest, pulling at the branches, lapping at the grass, and shaking the ground. He heard shouts from the men as the wind disturbed their balance, taking many to their knees. Nicolas stumbled back and searched for control against its power. But Remko remained firm in his stance.

  He closed his eyes and turned his face skyward, basking in the renewal of his mind that the truth brought. It soaked through his pores and refueled his weary belief. His face wet with tears of hope, his mind reenergized with thoughts of truth, Remko let the wind sweep away his fear and remind him of his power. The wind died away softly, but when he opened his eyes, he saw the forest differently. Clearly.

  Everyone was shaken, some men pulling themselves back to a standing position, others hesitantly releasing the trees they had grabbed for support. All of their faces wide with wonder. Nicolas had moved several steps back from Remko, his face suspended in surprise, his chest heaving violently. He and Remko locked eyes for a moment, and Remko saw something he hadn’t before: fear.

  Nicolas smoothed his ruffled hair with a shaky hand, regaining his composure. He tore his eyes away from Remko and started toward his truck. “Load him back in the car,” he yelled to a couple of guards who stayed frozen. “Now!”

  Nicolas disappeared from sight, never stopping to glance back.

  “What is the point of all this?” Kane muttered, pacing back and forth across the room.

  Davis ignored him and started handing out the small transmitters he’d concocted over the last few days. “Keep these with you at all times; they’ll let me track your movements in case we get separated.”

  “Man, you remind me of your dad,” Sam said.

  Davis raised his eyebrows. “My dad’s pretty weird, so I’m not really sure how to take that.”

  Sam laughed and shoved the transmitter he’d been handed into the inside pocket of his jacket. The rest of the group were storing theirs as well, making sure to keep them close as they prepared for another run.

  This would be the eighth in five days, and Elise was starting to feel the effects of it on her body. She was having trouble sleeping, memories of people staying with her for hours after she’d broken contact with them. Exhaustion that food and rest couldn’t seem to ease and aches in her chest followed her long after they vacated an Awakening spot. She was trying not to show it or let her concern outweigh her conviction. She was called to this, so she had to trust that all would work out the way it was supposed to.

  Davis handed the last transmitter to Kennedy. “Any word from home?” she asked.

  He shook his head no, and she gave a worried sigh.

  “Good idea,” Kane mocked. “Let’s not pay attention to the only sane person in the group.”

  “Funny how you’re the only person here who would refer to yourself as sane,” Kennedy said.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Kane continued, ignoring Kennedy’s snide remark. “They just re-dose them the second you guys cure them. Why keep putting ourselves at risk? What is the point?”

  “Why do you always say cure like it isn’t a real thing?” Sage asked.

  “His point isn’t completely invalid,” Timmons said, sidestepping Sage’s comment.

  “Thank you!” Kane said.

  “So we should give up?” Lucy asked. “Kane, you’ve been with us on every run. You’ve seen how we are changing people. We can’t stop now.”

  “Maybe you are changing people, but they’re changing them right back. We’re creating an endless cycle where we all just mess with these people’s minds.”

  “We are changing people.” Sage’s eyes were hot with fire.

  “I can’t believe that’s the way this will end,” Lucy said.

  “Can’t or won’t?” Kane fired back.

  “Enough, Kane,” Willis said. “Stay here with Davis and watch the monitors if you’d prefer.”

  “No, we need him,” Kennedy countered. “He’s the best warrior we have. Timmons can stay with Davis.”

  “I take offense at that comment,” Timmons said.

  “She’s right; you all need me,” Kane said. “But I’m starting to wonder what exactly we’re doing here.”

  The room paused for a beat because no one knew what to say. He was right, and Elise knew it as much as the others. The Authority was collecting people and reinjecting them with Genesis hours after the Seers cured them. It was hard not to feel like the situation was hopeless.

  Elise stayed quiet in the corner, keeping her thoughts to herself. She had been thinking the same thing Kane was for days now. What were they doing here? Awakening people, but to what end? None of them had seen Aaron in days, and Elise was having a harder time connecting to her power. She was supposed to be leading them, following the path, but sometimes it was difficult to see where the path was.

  A sudden wave of dizziness washed over her and she faltered in her stance. Willis caught her by the arm and held her steady. She couldn’t help but notice that he was always standing right beside her or watching her over his shoulder, tending to her as she recovered.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I just need some air.” But she knew he could see right through her.

  Willis walked her from the room, down the long factory hallway, and out the back door.

  Elise let the cold evening air fill her lungs as she inhaled slowly. The sun was sinking toward the horizon; soon the sky would be painted with beautiful sunset colors. There was a long moment of silence between them, and Elise was grateful for it. Her mind was moving in circles, trying to outrun her fear and confusion and somehow find the truth that was so easy to forget.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” Willis asked.

  Elise exhaled. “Kane’s right, you know. This isn’t working.”

  “Maybe it’s working on a level that we can’t see?”

  “No,” Elise said, “it isn’t. We’re running in circles, chasing our own tails.”

  “Elise—”

  “Tell me you haven’t had the same thoughts. How can you be 100 percent positive we’re doing the right thing?”

  “Because I trust the light.”

  Elise huffed and shook her head. “This power I was given, that I didn’t ask for, that has consumed my life . . . Eventually we are going to get caught, and you are all going to die because I believed I was called to something I’m not even sure is real!”

  Elise pressed her palms to the sides of her skull and felt fear begin to shake her insides. “I will have killed you all. I should have let you go back to Trylin.”

  “You didn’t make us stay,” Willis said. He was calmly leaning against the brick wall, his arms casually crossed over his chest. “We stayed because we saw the power and believed.”

  “And do you still believe? Even though nothing has changed?”

  “You’ve changed,” Willis said.

  His words stopped her for a moment. He was right—she had changed. She had changed down in the Capitol Building’s basement. She had changed on the roof with Aaron. She had changed when the light had awakened Sam and Franklin. Each time the light had moved through her, she had changed. The light had changed her. Had given her a purpose, had called her, chosen her. There had been so many moments of perfect clarity. Moments when she was so certain this was all there was, but how quickly they faded.

  “How do you remember?” Elise asked
.

  Willis took a deep breath and chuckled. “Lots of practice.”

  Elise turned her face from his and stared down the alley, not really looking at anything in particular but losing herself to her own thoughts and fears again. “What if I can’t do this?”

  “But you are doing it,” Willis insisted.

  “What if I’m not enough?” Elise could feel tears brewing under her eyelids and she swallowed to control herself.

  Willis pushed himself off the wall and took a step toward her. “I know it can feel like we’re doing this for nothing, but don’t forget who you are in the midst of your doubt.”

  A soft wind wisped past them both, a wind Elise was starting to recognize, and she could feel the power stir inside her. It beckoned her to see past her fear to truth, urged her to remember what was real and what her mind only convinced her was real. She inhaled deeply, pulling the wind into her lungs, and calmed.

  “Maybe we should do this run tomorrow?” Willis asked.

  Elise shook her head. Her fear was still there, as were all the unanswered questions, but the light was there too, and she had to follow it. “No, I’m fine.”

  “It’s okay to admit it if this is too much; we can—”

  “No. I just needed a moment. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I do worry, though.”

  She smiled at him. “I love you for worrying.”

  The second the words left her lips, she wished she could take them back. “I didn’t mean love as in love. I just meant I appreciate that you are always looking out for me.” She knew her face was burning red, and she tried to ignore the evident sparkle dancing in Willis’s eyes. He took a step closer to her, and she felt the red in her face deepen.

  “Well,” he started, “you were called to the people of this city, and I was called to you.” He reached out and softly pushed a stray curl behind her ear, and she forgot to breathe. “I really have no choice,” he teased.

  His words magically broke the tension and Elise couldn’t help but laugh. “How do you even manage?” she teased back.