The Alliance (14 page)

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
38

I organized a meeting and found most of the women here share my fears. We are too isolated. Half of us want to leave and find another way to survive, or else flee the country until whatever is happening here settles itself. The other half don't want to admit what is going on in front of their eyes. These poor ­people lost more than most in the tragedy and even after all these months are still engulfed with mourning.

—­The diary of Megan Jean

The sun was coming through the window and Mia fluttered her eyes open. The bed was so warm she didn't want to get up. Mia turned and nuzzled her favorite pillow. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so well.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind the memories came rushing to the fore. Escaping with Andrew, making their way across the country, avoiding the militia, finding a semblance of peace at Affinity, meeting Flo and losing her too soon. Mia shot out of bed. It was
her
bed. She was back at her parents' farmhouse. She looked down at herself: she was wearing a pair of pink sweatpants and a white tank top; her hair had been pulled back into a low ponytail and pinned away from her eyes. Mia did not remember changing.

Confusion turned to dread. When Corinna came home her parents had been quick to return their daughter to her husband. It was a stupid idea to come here and even more asinine to fall asleep. Grant was probably already on his way, courtesy of Mia's mother and father.

Mia looked around her room for the keys to her vehicle or the weapon she had brought. She debated jumping out of the window and making a break for it. Mia walked toward the blinds. The sun wasn't rising; it was starting to set. There was a knock on her door. Mia didn't have time to waste. She started lifting the heavy wooden window when the door creaked open.

“Mia?” Her mother's voice carried through the room. “Are you awake? We heard someone walking.”

She flung the window open, but Mia froze. She had come here for a reason and if need be Mia could just overpower her mother and make it toward the front door. Mia wasn't the weak one any longer. She spun around to face her mother.

“How much time do I have?” Mia asked.

“What do you mean?”

Mia looked at her mother's face. The woman looked like she had aged decades in the time Mia had been gone. Instead of wearing a fine dress, she had on ripped jeans and a baggy white T-­shirt that was covered with ash stains. Her beautiful hair was piled in a bun on the top of her head and she wore no makeup or jewelry. Mia wanted to ask questions, but she needed to keep her priorities straight. Showing concern for her mother's well-­being might waste whatever precious time she had.

“Before Grant gets here to claim me. How much time do I have?” Mia's voice did not falter. Her mother looked shocked.

“Nobody is coming for you,” she said. “At least nobody I'm aware of. Please sit down. I can tell you're scared.”

“I'm strong,” Mia said.

“I never said you weren't,” her mother replied.

“How did I get up here?”

“You were so tired,” she said. “I led you upstairs and helped you change.”

She took a seat in the chair next to Mia's bed. Mia hadn't noticed the rocker was pulled up.

“I sat with you all day,” she said. “It figures you'd wake up when I leave for five minutes to check on something.”

Mia didn't say anything.

“You were like that as a baby too,” her mother said. “You always slept better when someone else was in the room with you. But it was just as hard for anyone to leave you alone. You looked so peaceful sleeping. I could watch you sleep for hours and neglect my own rest.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“A lot has changed,” her mother said. “If you don't want to sit here, why don't you come down to the kitchen? I can make something for you.”

“The last time you made me food was years ago,” Mia said. “Unless Father was eating too.”

Mia's mother frowned and looked at the floor. “I thought I was preparing you,” she said. “Getting you ready for the rest of your life. I wanted to cook for you every day. You are my baby and you've come home to me.”

Mia's mother raised her head. Mia could see the tears glassing over her eyes. This was not the woman Mia remembered. Her mother was stern; she'd slapped Mia for suggesting she didn't want to get married.

“Would you rather talk first?” she asked. “I would love to hear how you've been. I was so sure you were dead.”

The last part sent Mia's mother over the edge. She started sobbing into her hands. Seeing her mother like this caused her own tears to well up; Mia couldn't help the reflex. She ran over to the chair and dropped to her knees. Her mother wrapped her arms around Mia and she returned the gesture.

“I'm so angry at you,” Mia said.

“I know,” she replied. “I'm sorry.”

The words stung Mia. She felt guilt creep up into her heart. This reunion could not last long though. Even if Mia's family hadn't called Grant, she'd stolen a RAG vehicle and left a pile of dead bodies in her wake. Someone would be following her soon. The farm was filled with ­people. All the young men her father employed could not be notified of her presence.

“I can't stay long,” Mia said. She released her mother and stood up again.

“Why not?”

“Nobody else can know I'm here,” Mia said. “I'm certain one of the workers saw the car. It's not safe for me.”

“There aren't any workers,” Mia's mother said.

“What do you mean?”

“There's nobody here who will let anyone know about your presence,” she said. “I moved the SUV into the garage. So in the unlikely event that someone drives by, they won't see anything.”

“I don't understand,” Mia said.

“Why don't you take a few minutes?” she said. “Freshen up and come downstairs. I can get some food ready for you and we can have a nice long talk.”

Mia's mother stood up. She reached out and grabbed Mia's hands.

“I love you,” she said.

The words hurt Mia's heart. Her mother hadn't spoken them in years. Mia tried to remember the last time she'd heard that sentiment from her family, but she couldn't. Mia's mother released her hands and walked out of the room, leaving a stunned Mia to dry her tears.

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

....................................

Chapter
39

Last night we made our break from confinement. It was not the most well-­thought-­out escape plan. I was one of the fortunate ones and now travel with four other women. We have yet to reach the edges of the city and are hiding out in an abandoned house. We hear sirens and search parties and hope they are not for us.

—­The diary of Megan Jean

When Mia walked down the giant steps she noticed the house was in disarray. The dust on the pictures and the floor wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone else, but Mia knew her mother had been meticulous in her cleaning. Things really had changed. Mia walked down the hall to see her mother at the stove. She was cooking eggs.

“Breakfast for dinner?” Mia asked.

“Eggs are a good source of protein,” her mother said. “And I'm making you an omelet. I remember how you loved them.”

Mia took a seat at the counter while her mom started seasoning the pan. This was very overwhelming, but Mia needed to continue the conversation. It was the reason she had come back.

“Where is Father?” Mia asked. “I have things to say to both of you.”

“Your father is not well,” her mother said. “I am afraid he isn't much for speaking these days. He doesn't leave the bed often.”

Mia remembered her father being active. He was always running around giving orders and bragging about his latest sale.

“What happened?” Mia asked.

“After you ran away Grant paid us a visit,” Mia's mother said. “He was unusually cruel. Your father slipped inside his own mind. At first it started with him waking up in the middle of the night and talking to himself. Then he started thinking everyone was trying to kill him. He fired Whitney's father, then sent all the boys away. He doesn't even speak much anymore. It's like he's living in a dream state.”

“Did you call a doctor?” Mia asked.

“How could I? What if they took him away, where would I go?”

Into retirement,
Mia thought. She cringed at the idea.

“It has been a bit of a blessing,” Mia's mother said. “I run things around here now. The fields aren't quite what they used to be, but I grow enough food to survive.”

“That's dangerous,” Mia said. “Mother, what if someone came to check on you or came looking for Father? You would get shipped away.”

“Trust me,” she said. “Nobody is coming. We are the black sheep now. Our friends are nonexistent; all your father's vendors stopped placing orders. In the event anyone does come I have piles of cash lying around to pay them off, and if that doesn't work I have a shotgun too.”

Mia's eyes went wide. This was not the uptight vision of womanly perfection Mia had idolized as a young adult.

“It's all because I ran away,” Mia said.

“Don't apologize,” she said.

“I didn't,” Mia said.

She had known her parents would face repercussions for her actions, but she thought they deserved them for selling their daughters.

“I deserve that,” her mother said. “And as far as the world is concerned you were kidnapped. Only a select few think you ran away.”

“Then why do they avoid you?”

“It started right after you left,” she said. “You father thought it was because they were all trying to kill him, but that made no sense. I think they were paid to leave us alone. I'm not sure if it was by Mr. Marsden or the government. Either way, ­people will do wicked things for the right price.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I did,” she said.

“Not the money issue,” Mia said. “Why do you think they were paid?”

“A few days after you left, our house was stormed by RAG agents. They took every record of you. Searched through all the rooms, took all the pictures, anything with your name on it. I called your two older sisters and their husbands refused my calls. Someone wanted to make sure you never existed. I think they want us to die out here.”

Mia cringed. That thought had never entered her mind. There was no record of her existence here. The trip was wasted.

“Why didn't they take you away then? You and Father?”

“I'm not sure,” she said. “Once Grant started making television appearances I was sure they would, that your father's mumbling was right.”

“Why didn't you leave?”

“Where would I go?”

“You could have run away like I did,” Mia said. “Made it to Mexico.”

“As much as I wish I was as brave as you, my darling girl, I am not,” she said. “And for all your father's shortcomings he did take care of me and give me four beautiful girls. I couldn't leave him here. He needs someone to feed him and change his sheets. Sometimes the whole left side of his body goes numb, and his eyes roll back in his head. It's awful.”

Mia's mother dropped the omelet on a plate and brought out two forks. She took a seat next to Mia and started picking at the food. Mia had a hard time mustering up an appetite.

“Please,” her mother said. “Tell me about where you've been. How in the world are you still alive?”

Too many emotions were clouding Mia's head. She wasn't ready to share with her mother yet.

“Why did you do it?” Mia asked.

“What?”

“Put me in the Registry? Only teach me about being a wife? You slapped me when I tried to open up to you about my feelings.”

Mia's mother took a bite. “I didn't know how else to act,” she said. “I grew up hating my mother. She was cruel. She used to make me clean till my palms bled. Then when I would show her the sparkling job I did she would raise her nose at me and make me do it again.”

“So that justifies your treatment of your own daughters?”

“Let me finish,” her mother said. “When your father married me I was scared, but after I had lived with him for only a week he'd shown me so much more kindness than my parents ever had. I loved him for it. Whenever he asked me questions about myself or commented on the work I had done, it felt amazing to have the attention.”

Her mother stopped and took a drink of water.

“When your eldest sister was born I was thrilled. I loved her so much and was going to treat her with the admiration she deserved, but then it hit me. My own mother loved me too. She treated me that way so it would be easier on me when I got married. What I mistook for cruelty was kindness. Her treatment made it easier for me to adjust to my new family.

“Still, I promised myself I wouldn't be like her,” she said. “I was always loving to you girls. When your older sisters turned twelve they went off to finishing school. I didn't have to be stern. I wasn't so lucky with you; since you stayed here I had to try my hardest to act like I didn't care about you.”

Mia understood what her mother was saying. Before Corinna made her late-­night visit Mia couldn't wait to get married; she probably wouldn't have missed her parents at all. Leaving them was never a concern for her. Mia shook her head. That still didn't justify everything.

“Why not run away with us?”

“Your father would have thrown me out if I brought it up to him, and how was I supposed to leave with four little girls of all ages? I don't regret staying; if I hadn't you would never have been born.”

Mia felt a twinge of guilt. Andrew was the only reason she had made it out of the country. On her own she wouldn't have made it to the highway. Mia was not ready to let go of her anger.

“What about Corinna?” Mia asked. “She came to you as an adult for help and you threw her away.”

“She made up for that,” said a voice that came from behind Mia.

Mia recognized the fluttery, petite voice. She closed her eyes and froze. Mia knew she was shaking; she took a big breath and spun around, opening her eyes to see the familiar face. There was a woman with long blond hair in a side braid. She wore a pair of ratty jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. Mia was seeing a ghost.

Without realizing she was doing it, Mia stood from her chair. She raised her hands over her mouth and let out a gasp.

“Corinna?” Mia asked.

“Welcome home, little sister,” Corinna said.

Mia bolted from the chair and latched on to her sister with both her arms. She felt the embrace returned and another arm drape across her back. Her mother kissed the top of her head.

“My girls, together again.”