Creators(52)

I reached up and ran my hand through her hair.

“I know it’s probably for the best. I know I wasn’t ready to be a mother, and I probably won’t ever be one, but it was still a life,” she choked out. “I’m so tired of death, Tess. I’m just so tired.”

“We all are,” I replied. “We all are.”

Louisa lifted her head and sniffled. She looked past me to Lockwood. “Oh, Lock, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so hateful.”

Lockwood rushed to her side and placed a hand on her cheek. His eyes welled with tears. “You don’t have to go through this alone. As long as I’m alive, you’ll never have to go through anything alone again.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? How long until you die, too?” she cried out.

“Nobody can know that, so let’s just focus on now.”

Louisa reluctantly nodded and shifted so she could embrace Lockwood. I wrapped my arms around my waist. They suddenly felt empty. The kind of empty that filled the pit of your stomach with lead. I stood and patted him on the shoulder. I left the tent knowing that the previous day’s events would leave them both scarred, but as long as they had each other, they wouldn’t be broken.

With Lockwood with Louisa and Henry somewhere with Stephanie, I was left alone. I walked through the woods, nodding and greeting the survivors along the way. So many people huddled in groups that I didn’t belong to. I wrapped my arms around myself and walked deeper, away from the members of the community.

Once I was sure no one would see me, I crumpled to the ground. I would allow myself this. Only this. The pain moved from deep within my chest, clawing its way up my throat.

I’m so tired of death.

Five words. Five words were all it took to let it free. I pressed my face into my hands, grabbed at my hair, and yanked it hard. I cried and wailed, sobbed and screamed until there was nothing left of me. Nothing left of the girl who was afraid. Nothing left of the girl who waited for death to find her.

When the crying was over, I lay down on the dirt ground. The ground that lived way before my time and would continue long after I was dead. I wondered what secret it had learned to survive so long.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

I lifted myself up and rested my weight on my elbows.

“You all right?” my father asked, his voice tight.

I reached up and touched my face, swollen and puffy from crying. I nodded. “I am now.”

My father walked over and crouched in front of me. “I was wondering if you could help me out with something. It won’t be easy, and I can’t guarantee that it will be safe. But you’re the only person I can trust will do the right thing in the end. You’re my blood. Part of me. And that counts for something.” He reached for my hand.

For a second, it was as if the father of my childhood had returned, but I had seen this performance too many times to give myself over to it without trepidation. If there was anything I learned, it was that I would have to play the role of daughter to get anywhere with him, and I wanted to know what he was planning next.

I sat up and let my father take my hand in his. I didn’t feel anything when he touched me. I had numbed that part of myself. Not forever—I would never be that girl again. Just temporarily. I had to if I was going to do what came next. “What is it you need me to do?”

My father had done monstrous things, searching out ends that justified his dark and twisted means, but I needed to get to the council’s headquarters. My father had told me over and over that he planned on taking down the council, which meant he was heading into the very heart of the beast. Abrams had mentioned a fail-safe. I wasn’t entirely sure what it all meant, but if my father wanted it, I had to get to it first. I didn’t trust him. Not anymore.

I had no home left. And even the temporary safety the community had afforded us did not stop Sharon or Eric from losing their lives. There were no guarantees in this world. I couldn’t promise time, and so I wasn’t going to wait for the universe to bring James back to me. I was going to get him back myself.

Besides, George was waiting for me. Before taking James, he had revealed to us his gift—to read the secrets of others. If George wanted me to hear something, I was damn ready to listen.

My father reached forward and wiped a bit of dirt off my face. He took a deep breath and stared off into the distance. When his eyes found mine, they held a confidence that seemed foreign in these woods. “I need you to help me bring down the council.”

It took me a minute to find my voice. “How can I do that?” I asked. “I’m just some girl.”