“Nothing’s going to happen. Don’t worry.” The words are nearly meaningless. A waste of effort. But his voice is worth hearing, no matter the message.
“Okay.”
He pulls me around to face him, and I lean my head against his chest. I don’t know what to compare his scent to. It is his own, as unique as the smell of juniper or the desert rain.
“You and I won’t lose each other,” he promises. “I will always find you again.” Being Jared, he cannot be completely serious for more than a heartbeat or two. “No matter how well you hide. I’m unstoppable at hide-and-seek.”
“Will you give me to the count of ten?”
“Without peeking.”
“You’re on,” I mumble, trying to disguise the fact that my throat is thick with tears.
“Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine. You’re strong, you’re fast, and you’re smart.” He’s trying to convince himself, too.
Why am I leaving him? It’s such a long shot that Sharon is still human.
But when I saw her face on the news, I was so sure.
It was just a normal raid, one of a thousand. As usual when we felt isolated enough, safe enough, we had the TV on as we cleaned out the pantry and fridge. Just to get the weather forecast; there isn’t much entertainment in the dead-boring everything-is-perfect reports that pass for news among the parasites. It was the hair that caught my eye—the flash of deep, almost pink red that I’d only ever seen on one person.
I can still see the look on her face as she peeked at the camera from the corner of one eye. The look that said, I’m trying to be invisible; don’t see me. She walked not quite slowly enough, working too hard at keeping a casual pace. Trying desperately to blend in.
No body snatcher would feel that need.
What is Sharon doing walking around human in a huge city like Chicago? Are there others? Trying to find her doesn’t even seem like a choice, really. If there is a chance there are more humans out there, we have to locate them.
And I have to go alone. Sharon will run from anyone but me—well, she will run from me, too, but maybe she will pause long enough for me to explain. I am sure I know her secret place.
“And you?” I ask him in a thick voice. I’m not sure I can physically bear this looming goodbye. “Will you be safe?”
“Neither heaven nor hell can keep me apart from you, Melanie.”
Without giving me a chance to catch my breath or wipe away the fresh tears, she threw another at me.
Jamie curls up under my arm—he doesn’t fit the way he used to. He has to fold in on himself, his long, gangly limbs poking out in sharp angles. His arms are starting to turn hard and sinewy, but in this moment he’s a child, shaking, cowering almost. Jared is loading the car. Jamie would not show this fear if he were here. Jamie wants to be brave, to be like Jared.
“I’m scared,” he whispers.
I kiss his night-dark hair. Even here among the sharp, resinous trees, it smells like dust and sun. It feels like he is part of me, that to separate us will tear the skin where we are joined.
“You’ll be fine with Jared.” I have to sound brave, whether I feel that way or not.
“I know that. I’m scared for you. I’m scared you won’t come back. Like Dad.”
I flinch. When Dad didn’t come back—though his body did eventually, trying to lead the Seekers to us—it was the most horror and the most fear and the most pain I’d ever felt. What if I do that to Jamie again?
“I’ll come back. I always come back.”
“I’m scared,” he says again.
I have to be brave.
“I promise everything will be fine. I’m coming back. I promise. You know I won’t break a promise, Jamie. Not to you.”
The shaking slows. He believes me. He trusts me.
And another:
I can hear them on the floor below. They will find me in minutes, or seconds. I scrawl the words on a dirty shred of newsprint. They are nearly illegible, but if he finds them, he will understand:
Not fast enough. Love you love Jamie. Don’t go home.
Not only do I break their hearts, I steal their refuge, too. I picture our little canyon home abandoned, as it must be forever now. Or if not abandoned, a tomb. I see my body leading the Seekers to it. My face smiling as we catch them there…
“Enough,” I said out loud, cringing away from the whiplash of pain. “Enough! You’ve made your point! I can’t live without them either now. Does that make you happy? Because it doesn’t leave me many choices, does it? Just one—to get rid of you. Do you want the Seeker inside you? Ugh!” I recoiled from the thought as if I would be the one to house her.
There is another choice, Melanie thought softly.
“Really?” I demanded with heavy sarcasm. “Show me one.”
Look and see.
I was still staring at the mountain peak. It dominated the landscape, a sudden upthrust of rock surrounded by flat scrubland. Her interest pulled my eyes over the outline, tracing the uneven two-pronged crest.
A slow, rough curve, then a sharp turn north, another sudden turn back the other way, twisting back to the north for a longer stretch, and then the abrupt southern decline that flattened out into another shallow curve.
Not north and south, the way I’d always seen the lines in her piecemeal memories; it was up and down.
The profile of a mountain peak.
The lines that led to Jared and Jamie. This was the first line, the starting point.
I could find them.
We could find them, she corrected me. You don’t know all the directions. Just like with the cabin, I never gave you everything.