Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy) (6 page)

“
Yes. I was right,” Fi murmured.

Asher sat beside her
, holding his son and stroking her hair. It was only minutes before she snuggled into her pillow and slipped into sleep. He stared at her in awe, hardly daring to breathe for fear that the moment would evaporate if he did. He knew all too well how quickly this kind of happiness could be taken away.

Though he’d wished for a sign that his parents were still alive nearly every day, their absence now seared him like a fresh burn
. He was incredibly touched that Fi had insisted on including his father’s name, David. They’d discussed Luke, wanting to honor the brother she’d lost so young, but they hadn’t discussed his parents’ names. It had been too painful for him.
How proud they would be of him,
he thought,
and of Fi!
They would absolutely love her.

When
Fi had first told him she was pregnant, his mind had flown to his mother, but his preoccupation with their mission and Fi’s safety had kept the thoughts of his mother at bay. Now, in the silence of their shattered home, with his new son at his chest, he longed for her. Her touch, her voice, the way her hand stroked his back absently when she embraced him, as if it still thought him a baby.

His face grew hot as he fought tears
. Asher closed his eyes. “One day, Luke, I promise you. One day I’ll find your grandparents.”

A few minutes later Sara peeked through the door. She saw Fi sleeping and smiled at Asher. She raised an eyebrow and gave a thumbs-up.

Asher nodded and she
turned to leave. “Sara,” he whispered, rising carefully. Luke didn’t stir in his grasp, so he tiptoed out behind Sara into the dimly lit hall, closing the door behind him. “Where’s Sean? And Squeak?”

“Off putting Humpty-Dumpty back together, I guess.”
She gave him a side-hug. “Hey, speaking of fairy tales, I didn’t really get a chance to congratulate you, Papa Bear.”

“Thanks, Sara.”
He squeezed her back gratefully. It was the first time he noticed how weary she appeared. Her eyes were tired and pinched at the corners, her messy half-bun had exploded into haphazard trailers, and she still wore her soiled clothes. She could’ve been beamed right from a war movie.

“Uh..
.Sara?” He dropped his head, flustered. How could he possibly thank this woman…this amazing, fearless woman? She’d taken over and saved his wife…and his son… He felt the second warning of tears in the last two minutes and he took a deep breath, swiping at his eyes. “I’m trying to find some way to say ‘thank you’ and I’m struggling to find the right words.”

She huffed and her lip curled
just a bit, forcing its way upward against the weight of her fatigue. “That’s ironic, Mr. Famous Author…Mr. Champion Journalist…O’ Chronicler of the Apocalypse…”

“All right, all right,” Asher
said, rewarding her with a tired laugh.

“Seriously, Ash, you don’t have to thank me.
” Her face grew serious again. She tugged at the tangles in her long hair, unnerved by all the open sentiment. It wasn’t her way, he knew. Not when it was really important.

Sara was only ebullient
or dramatic over silly things like missed soccer calls or apple pie nights. Once she’d even tried to organize a sit-in at Eden when they wouldn’t hold a dance for the students (mostly because her little sister Lily had a crush and Sara was determined to be her wing-woman). But when it came to real things, she was closed up like a treasure box with a rusted lock. Still, she managed the words for him because he was family…because Fi was family.

“
She’d do the same for me in a heartbeat,” she said.

“I know, but the only thing I can think is that I owe you everything…again.”
Asher shuddered, nauseated by the memory of a pregnant Fi on her knees, a machete hanging above her neck. The granola he’d managed to choke down earlier threatened to come back up. He swallowed and tried not to retch.
If it hadn’t been for Sara…

Sara picked at the door, having found a bit of paint that was flaking away.
“And I’ll always owe you, Asher. You and Fi and Sean.”

“What?
Why?”

“Because you’ve
always accepted who I am, all of you.” Her hands fluttered and then settled, finding refuge in her pockets. “It’s kind of hard to explain what that’s worth.”

“Sara.”
Her eyes skittered away and her throat pulsed as she swallowed back tears. His throat tightened.
She’d been afraid as well. Even Sara had been scared.
He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Who you are is Luke’s guardian angel. It’s kind of hard to explain what
that’s
worth.”

Her eyes shone as she
cupped Luke’s head. “Ok, Papa Bear. Well, it’s time for this guardian angel to wash up.” She whirled before her tears fell and hurried away.

Asher stood leaning against the doorjamb for just a moment as he watched her head down the long tunnel, her silhouette strobing in and out as she passed the emergency lights, like snapshots
. Sara, her stride proud, her chin up. The Sara in the light. And in between, in the negative space…Sara, her face hidden behind the ebony curtain of her hair, her hands balled into fists. She wasn’t so easy to see. She was the Sara in the shadow.

There was a grunt and snuffle at his chest and he lo
oked down, startled to find a pink creature wiggling in his grasp. A creature so small that his weight didn’t even register.
His son. Luke David Grey.
He reminded Asher of one of those “teacup” puppies people loved before the Famine, so teeny that they could be crushed by an owner rolling over in a deep sleep.
Like a different species
. His gaze returned to the space where Sara had been. A “preemie,” she’d called him.

He turned into their room and stopped a few feet from the bed, watching Fi sleep.
It was strange to see her so small and quiet and pale. He’d gotten used to the round girl with pink cheeks (from hot flashes, she would’ve reminded him) and a hearty laugh who’d complained of heartburn and having to pee every five minutes. Not this fragile thing.

He flopped in the chair by her side with a sigh so deep that it
seemed to come through him rather than from him. He wanted to stroke her hair, but was afraid to wake her. She needed the rest.

Asher pressed his lips to Luke’
s tiny head, careful to avoid the soft spot Sara had shown him. “Luke, I know you’re just a little guy now,” he whispered, “but your mom and me…and our friends…we’re a different species. And one day,” his voice grew thick, “you will be too.”

------------ Sean --------------

“W
e’ll update you as often as we can, Asher,” Sean said. “And as soon as we have any news, we’ll let you know, ok?”

Fi lay in the bed, sl
iding in and out of sleep. The others kept their voices down, trying to encourage her to rest. Every time that Sean looked at her he felt his rage burn higher.
This should have been the happiest time in her life
, he thought. She should have been able to enjoy her newborn child and instead she had to worry about her “other” child, Kiara. No matter what else happened, he knew that he would never forgive the Truthers for this. It was a million times worse than the Famine. This was personal.

When Fi’s little brother had died,
the Skillmans had been the only attendants. The rest of the Kelly family was too distant or too ill to travel. Sean was five, and even though it was one of his earliest memories, it was crystal clear. The air had been frigid, with dry leaves whipping and dancing above the hole in the ground. Now that he was grown, he knew that her brother’s grave had been tiny, but he’d been so small at the time that it had loomed like a gaping mouth, threatening to swallow him up.

H
e’d stood at the edge of that mouth and stared down into it, his hand clutched in Fi’s, her tears drying sticky on her six-year-old cheeks. He stared at that hole and felt a new hole grow in his own heart. It grew and grew until it filled up his chest and throat. And when he couldn’t breathe anymore and his brain screamed for air, he had made a promise.

He promised that he’d do anything to stop the world from hurting Fi
. As soon as he made the promise his chest had loosened. He’d looked up at the watery white sun, barely warmer than the moon, and seared his tears away. He had to be strong. He had to protect her. And though he’d mostly failed miserably to keep that promise, he’d never stop trying.

He finally understood how Sara felt, why she walked around ready
to lash out with her blades at anything and everything that represented evil. It was comforting, and easier, frankly, than dealing with the fear. The fear was worse than the outrage.

The fear crept into him slowly, sneaking in his crevices and alcoves when his guard was down
. It flowed through him like negative chi, locking him down. Sometimes it nearly froze him in his tracks, stopping his breath. His mother and sisters at the mercy of the Truthers…his mind was a rain of falling blades.

Beside him,
Sara was instructing Asher on basics for the baby, since she would be joining Sean in the search. “Make sure that you keep that formula Sean found in the medical pod handy, Ash. Even if Fi tries her best, some babies don’t ever really learn to breastfeed. At least, my aunt’s son didn’t.”

“Was he ok?” Asher struggled to keep his voice even.

Jeez, I feel for him
, Sean thought. A new baby was freaking crazy enough. But a fragile baby, a ransacked home, a missing family…this was too damned much! And Sara looked terrible. His gaze shifted to his love. She’d managed to rest her body, but he could see the strain in her eyes at the thought of leaving Fi behind at such a critical time.
Too damned much.
He chewed his lip.

Unfortunately, they had
no choice. They had to leave to track the Truthers and — God willing — the colonists as well, as soon as possible. Fortunately, it was the depth of winter. Tracking might be miserable, but with barren forests and three hundred hostages on the move, at least it should be easy.

Asher, Squeak, Fi, and the baby would be staying
. Fi was too fragile and the baby too young to travel yet, and Asher couldn’t leave her. Sean’s logical mind understood this, but it scared him to think that everything rested on him and Sara.

Sara continued with her suggestions until Asher stopped her, bewildered
. “Sara, how do you know all this?”

“Look, I’m not an expert.
I just…listen.”

Sean
managed a genuine smile at this, warmed by the kiss of familiarity: the little lovers’ quirks that are cherished like keepsakes.
She does listen
, he thought, with pride. It was one of the things about her that he’d noticed first…besides the obvious. Of course she was a complete knockout, but then, he hadn’t met many girls that hot who were also quiet. At first he’d thought she was shy, but in time he noticed that when others talked, she listened.

When he asked her why, she’d looked at him like he was crazy
. “Because it’s so interesting, Sean, isn’t it? The way that other people think?”

Just then
Sara touched his arm, rousing him from his memories. Despite her fatigue, her expression was calm and strong. Something in her had changed since she’d delivered Luke. He could still feel the rage, but there was also a quiet resolve shining in her eyes that he’d never seen. Perhaps he shouldn’t underestimate what they could do together.

“Sean.
” Fi slid back into wakefulness. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Of course not.
” He embraced her. She felt like a bird in his arms and his throat tightened. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d been seized by the need to protect Fi. She hadn’t needed it for so long. But now she did. Now she was past her limits and it was up to him to fix it. He grabbed her hand. “We’re going to find her, Fi.”

Sara leaned in to kiss Fi’s forehead.
“ We’re going to find all of them,” she added. “ We promise.”

Fi
nodded, tears hovering in her hollow eyes.

Sean stopped to give Asher a quick hug goodbye
. “Stay safe,” he urged.

“You too,”
Asher murmured, remaining quiet for the benefit of the sleeping bundle in his arms. Sean and Sara pulled on their winter gear and packs. “Sean!” Asher whispered fiercely. “ Please tell us what you find right away. Even if…”

He didn’t finish his thought
, but he didn’t have to.

“I will
.” Sean understood. The not knowing was killing them all.

------------Darryl------------

“Up, Liars!”

Darryl’s eyes flew open as a boot shoved him in the back
. Pain shot through his mouth and he tasted copper. He pried open his eyes, crusted with the tears that he couldn’t seem to stop. They streamed from his eyes at all hours in this arctic air. He spat into the snow and grunted, unsurprised to see the bright spot of red. He must have bitten his tongue when they kicked him.