Oppression (30 page)

“Look, we don’t have time. The Council is checking up on things. I don’t know the details. I don’t know where we are going, so I can’t tell you what’s going to happen.” His words were hurried and frantic, and the distressed look in his eyes made me fold. I tucked my questions away for later and ducked into the back of the cab.

The moment William closed the hatch behind us, I felt claustrophobic. The white tufted fabric that lined the walls of the hearse was foreboding and uncomfortable. Death seemed to follow me like a dark cloud always hovering overhead. Two coffins crowded the space, and William and I crouched between them on the floor of the car. The more feminine one was black and sleek with shiny enamel and brushed nickel trim, aesthetic and elegant. Despite its beauty, the idea of playing out my death as if it had actually happened left a sick feeling in my stomach. If William had arrived a few minutes later, this would have been my coffin.

“Lie down,” William instructed as he pulled a white curtain across the back window.

“In the coffin?” I asked, my voice spiking a little in surprise.

“On the floor,” he said, laying down close beside me. “So they can’t see us.”

“What’s going to happen?”

My heart raced as I imagined how far they were behind us. I kept imagining what I would do if the back door swung open, and I were to be dragged out by the feet, ripped away from William before we had a chance to get away. I had the urge and the will to fight back, but I had no defense. Still, I knew I could be ruthless if they threatened us, and maybe I would have to be.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” he assured me. “Everything will be fine.”

I turned my head to face his, our noses inches apart. “Do you think they’ll come out here?”

“I don’t know.”

All was quiet as we lay flat on our backs, hidden from view, our heavy breath in place of a conversation. William was the first to break the silence.

“We have to get in the coffins.”

“I know,” I answered.

“. . . and I need you to drink this.”

In his hand was one of the vials Iosif had given him.

“Trust me,” he said. “You remember the elixir Juliet drank to make it seem like she was dead?”

“Yes,” I said skeptically.

He held up the vial of green liquid. “This works the same way.”

I raised my eyebrows, wondering how such a thing could really exist, if it would work. “Have you ever taken it before?”

“No.” His voice was honest and understanding. We were both unsure, but there wasn’t really any other choice.

I tried not to think as I lay my body down on the pillowy satin fabric of my coffin. I repeated William’s words in my head. Everything was going to be fine. Wasn’t it? I held the vial to my lips, staring up into William’s eyes and fully trusting him despite my fear.

“Farewell,” I said, quoting Juliet’s last words before her death-mimicking sleep, “God knows when we shall meet again.”

“Don’t say that,” he said with pained eyes.

I smiled. “Come on, it’s fitting.”

“No, it’s not,” he said solemnly.

“I love you.” If I had to choose any last words, those felt right.

“I love you too,” he said, and kissed my lips, speaking more than we could ever say.

I drank the liquid and William closed the lid, sealing me in blackness. It was then I realized that things hadn’t turned out so well for Juliet. A shiver shook my shoulders and I began to float. Not being able to see my surroundings made the floating sensation overwhelmingly intense and uncomfortable. I thought about calling out to William, who was no doubt feeling the same unsettling side effects in his coffin beside me, but I couldn’t chance it. They might be outside by now. Instead, I hoped and wished for sleep to come. I felt my pulse slow and my breath shorten, and then I heard the rear hatch of the car open.

“I’ve been waiting for this day,” said a husky sinister voice. “If she hadn’t been flagged untouchable, I would have killed her myself.”

“And I would have helped you,” said another man with hatred in his voice.

“Too bad she offed herself. Would have been my pleasure to do the job.”

I could hear the smile on the husky voiced man as he spoke and played out the murder in his head.

“Although, I’ll always wonder if she would have joined us,” said his counterpart. “Now we’ll never know.”

“We do know. There’s nothing about her joining us in the prophecy. Trust me, she needed to die. The Council was banking on empty hope. She would have brought us down.”

There was a pause as the two men considered what was just said, but it lasted too long. My hearing had started to fade along with my consciousness into a gentle sleep. Pieces of conversation faded in and out like someone was turning their volume up and down.

“Open them up,” said one of the men.

“. . . not really necessary . . .” Iosif’s voice was followed by his agonizing scream, and although I wanted to help, I was sinking deeper. Unable to move, unable to hear, unable to react, all that was left for me was sleep.

29.

THE WIND WOKE me up. The soft breeze picked up my hair and traced it across my face tickling my cheeks and nose. Above me, an umbrella of branches provided shade, letting in small patches of sunlight that danced in patterns on the ground below where I lay. For a second, I thought I might be back at Lenaia, but between the shimmering gold and red leaves, I could see the blue of the sky. I sat up, dry foliage and dirt sticking to my hair and back, and tried to figure out where I was. William was there beside me, sleeping soundly and unaware of our new surroundings. No need to bother him. The rush of slow air through the trees was the only sound, like rushing water.

My last memory was of the inside of the coffin, black and alone, but I knew we had been headed somewhere for a purpose. I scanned the area with my eyes, looking for anything that might help us figure out what we were supposed to do next, where we were supposed to go. There was nothing in the distance but more trees.

Suddenly, a heap of dead leaves smashed against the top of my head and began raining down on me from above.

“What the . . .” I looked up trying to find the source, but William’s belly laugh gave it away.

“You should have seen your face,” he managed, still rolling with laughter on the ground next to me.

His cheerful mood was contagious, and I laughed at my own reaction.

“So,” he said, once we had both gained control of ourselves. “Wonder where we are.”

I looked around again. “No idea.”

“Do you want to walk around, check the place out? We’re not going to get any more lost than we are now.” He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about our situation. In fact, he seemed quite the opposite. He was happy we were lost.

“You’re not worried at all?” I asked, feeling a little uneasy myself. “We have absolutely no idea where we are?”

“Not
absolutely
no idea. I know where we are in theory. This was
my
emergency plan after all.”

“What is that supposed to mean? In theory we are on planet earth. What good does that do?”

“Okay. We’re in a safe haven.”

“Yeah, that’s much clearer,” I said rolling my eyes.

“My uncle’s bloodline is of Soteria, goddess of safety. He can do amazing things. He created this for us.”

“The forest?” I asked, confused.

“No, the haven,” he corrected. “Think of it as a set of boundaries set up around this place. Only we are allowed in, and whoever we agree is trustworthy. To everyone else, everything that is contained within the borders is invisible.”

“So, is it real or not?”

“It’s real, but it isn’t infinite. It has limits, and beyond those limits is . . . well, wherever he put us. We just can’t see it.”

With nothing else to lead the way, we followed the distant sound of trickling water coming from a nearby stream. I let my mind wander, speaking up only when something piqued my interest or when concern overshadowed my want to push my worries aside.

“Do you think they’re all right?” I asked through the sound of cracking twigs beneath our feet.

I wondered if I should tell William about Iosif’s scream. Maybe he had heard it too. The haunting sound seemed to resurface no matter how much I wanted to avoid it.

“Who?” William answered, knowing very well I may be referring to a number of people.

“Everyone, I guess.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I hope so.” With a single glance, I knew I had pulled the unwelcoming thought to the front of his mind. For a moment he stopped his boyish gallivanting, throwing rocks and hanging from tree limbs, and looked back at me to consider. “At least you’re safe.”

Suddenly his focused changed, and his solemn expression settled into one of concentration.

“What is it?” I began, but he cut me off.

“Shh.” His careful eyes met mine for a brief second and focused again on something in front of us.

I wasn’t sure how I didn’t see it myself. The beautiful doe moved slowly and gracefully across our path, her thick brown coat blending into the maple brown backdrop of tree trunks and fallen leaves. William and I stood frozen in our places, not wanting to scare her away.

Out of nowhere something coming vaguely from the right flew past us and plunged itself deep into the neck of the animal—a dart. I gasped and jumped back startled. Where had it come from? I looked around and saw no one. The graceful doe let out an unnatural moan as it tried to leap its way to safety, but the dart had disabled her, and she fell to the ground with a staggered jerking effort.

It happened so fast. As I struggled to understand, I felt William’s hand around mine, pulling us into hiding behind a tree.

“Let her go, William,” said a rough and disorienting voice coming from a direction we weren’t expecting.

“Uncle Mac?” William sounded surprised, but relieved as he loosened his grip around my waist.

“I said let her go, William.” The man emerged from behind a wide trunked tree, his voice a warning. He was thick bodied and solid like a mule, the stubble on his face so thick it could be dirt, but his appearance wasn’t what I found most threatening. The double-barreled shotgun in his hands was pointed my way.

“Wait,” William stammered nervously. I felt his grip tighten again. “Uncle Mac, it’s us. What are you doing?”

The doe squirmed stiffly, obviously in pain. My eyes flew between the gun and the animal, confused and scared numb.

“I need proof,” he said angling the gun toward William himself.

“Wow, Uncle Mac. Wait, what proof?” He was starting to panic. My eyes turned to the doe. She was dying.

“Heal her,” he demanded, the hollow barrels looking me straight in the face. “She could be a Council spy. I need to know it’s her.”

I don’t think I could have moved if William shoved me forward. I was still frozen in shock. The doe was motionless, little life left in her eyes.

“What?” William couldn’t hide the hint of doubt in his voice, and I thought maybe he actually believed I was with The Council.

“Come on, before it’s too late,” the man yelled.

“Can you do it?” William asked, desperate and unsure.

“I don’t know,” I blurted out. Could I heal an animal? What if I tried and it didn’t work? Was this man really going to shoot me? I glanced at him briefly to judge his sincerity, and there was no hesitation in the way he held that gun. I had no choice but to try.

She reacted to my approaching steps, a futile effort to escape what she surely thought would be her death. Her muscles flinched, tensing under my palm as I stroked her side before pulling out the dart in one fluid motion.

“It’s poison,” I mumbled to myself, assessing the situation. The poison was in her veins, so the doe would have to ingest my blood like Anna. I touched the bracelet on my right wrist, thankful I had a way to extract it. Who knows what other option Uncle Mac would have come up with? Shoot me in the arm, I guessed.

I pressed the two gold buttons and felt the blades shoot into my flesh, then twisted it a little to the left and pressed again, hoping it was enough to do the job. I lowered it to her mouth, letting the steady quick drops run over her tongue, and to my relief, she began licking instinctively. It took several minutes, but after a while, she began to breathe steadily, and once she had the strength, she rocked onto her feet and darted off into the brush.

“See now, that wasn’t so hard,” the big man grinned, genuinely pleased.

“What the
hell
, Mac?” William yelled throwing his arms into the air.

“What yourself? I thought you’d expect I’d want proof. What’d I tell you about fifty times last time I saw you?”

“Trust no one blindly,” William answered, still in shock over the whole ordeal. “Why didn’t you need proof from me then?”

“I believe you just gave it to me.” He propped the gun over his shoulder, in the most casual way and turned to leave without another word.

William and I stood unmoving, my heart finally beginning to slow back to its normal pace. He turned to me, his shoulders hiked shaking his head. He had no words to express his outrage.

“Well, are you going to keep up?” Mac yelled from a distance.

“I’m sorry,” William managed. He looked in Mac’s direction and sighed. “Come on.”

“Wait,” I said, catching him by the wrist. He seemed too comfortable following the armed man into the forest. “How do you know we’re safe?”

“We’re safe,” he said taking my hand. “We’re as safe as we can be . . . for now.”