The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity (17 page)

“Right now? Don’t you think that’s a little risky?” I
asked with wide eyes. And that’s when he lowered his shoulders and said, “It
might be our last chance.”

Beyond the cemetery was a gateless entrance leading
upward into the mountains. Hidden by trees, I trailed behind Evan as he guided
me up the scaling path. The sun slipped against the horizon now, displaying the
glory of the auroras on the edge of night. Chasing the lingering daylight, I worried
we’d be caught after curfew. But at least out here, the trails had no warning
signs, only remnants of broken chain link and abandoned rock.

The late autumn sunset lit up our route as the cooler
air settled in. As we passed the top of the trail overlooking the town, we
stopped. Ahead stood hundreds of wind turbines, the same ones I’d seen my first
day back. Up close, their blades were monstrous, soaring hundreds of feet in
precise rows atop the peaks, their sharp, narrow edges eclipsing the light from
the setting sun.

“People call this place the blades,” Evan said with a
smirk.

“I see why,” I said, staring up at them in awe.

“Don’t worry. We’re not technically trespassing here.
They keep this area open to the workers so they can perform maintenance on the
generators. You should have watched them build these things,” Evan said with
enthusiasm.

“This is… crazy,” I said, spinning in a dizzying full
circle.

“Yeah, but wait until you see the view from the top,”
he said in a devilish grin. I froze.

“You mean… up there?” I asked, reconfirming his words.
He tried not to smirk again.

“Just… follow me.”

He led me down a lengthy path through the rows of
turbines, and as the sun set behind the mountains, the sky gleamed a fiery red.
Shadows of their vertical stems cast parallel across the rugged terrain, the
swooshing of their propellers synchronizing to their repetitive motions. We followed
the thin, sword-like silhouettes under the glow of the auroras. They appeared
so close from on top of the ridge, it looked like the tips of the blades were
reaching out to touch them.

The breeze was much cooler now, with the early display
of snow glowing white atop the higher peaks miles to our right, signifying
winter wasn’t far off. From up here, the entire town was visible. I couldn’t
imagine what was beyond the city, nor was I sure I wanted to. And as Evan
pulled me forward, we neared a split fence that encircled the base of one of
the turbines. A warning sign hung lop-sided, broken by weather and desertion,
and suddenly, I was curious how many times he’d been here.

“How’d you find this place?” I asked as he lifted a
part of the fencing up for me to crouch under. Evan grinned.

“It wasn’t hard. The fence around the cemetery isn’t hard
to get past. But this is my secret. No one else knows I come out here.”

“So you’re sure we won’t get caught up here?”

“Nah. Aaron said the guards don’t watch the area
anymore. Most of the energy generated up here only goes to civilian housing, so
it isn’t a priority to them to keep guarded. Besides, they have more important
things to worry about,” Evan said, wincing as I crawled underneath the fence. 

“Makes sense.” I blinked as he caught up to me.

“Come on. We don’t have much time,” Evan said, nodding
toward a large square door.

“Wait… you weren’t serious… we’re not actually going
up there, are we?” I asked, looking up at the circling daggers. Evan’s smile
faded.

“There’s something you should see. Trust me…” he said.

I hesitated as he pulled on the latch to open the door,
its creak squealing over the whooshing of the blades. After we stepped inside,
Evan lit up his flashlight. The room was an enormous cylinder. On the far side
of the wall stood a large ladder separated by metal platforms leading to the
top, and to our left housed a series of cabinets.

“Here, put this on.” His voice echoed as he pulled out
two safety harnesses with hooks, and a helmet for us both. But when he reached
out to hand it to me, I hesitated. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, it’s just… it’s really high,” I said, my body
shaking with anxiety.

“I promise it’s worth it. You’ll be okay. You’ll be
attached to a rope. And I’ll be right next to you,” Evan reassured me. I
blinked, swallowing my unease as I grabbed the helmet from him. After putting it
on, I struggled to secure myself into the harness. “Here. Let me help,” he
offered. He was inches from me now, concentrating on hooking the harness around
my waist when his glance flickered up to me again. Before continuing, he paused
hesitantly in a sigh of guilt. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. We can
go back,” Evan said under his breath, spacing out at the wall beside him. I
stayed silent before his eyes reached mine again. I gave him a puzzling smile,
blinking in shame.

“No. It’s fine. It’s just my fear of heights. I’ll get
over it.” I focused on the floor again before looking back up at him. Evan
waited a moment before returning a grin.

“Okay. Well, what will make it easier? Me first, or
you?” He nodded toward the ladder. I gulped the air back silently as I
calculated the distance we’d need to climb.

“You,” I said. And within that second, his smile burst
into a chuckle. My eyes were ridden with surprise before I cracked a smile.

“If you insist. But stay close, and don’t look down,
okay? I don’t want you ditching me before we get up there,” he teased. And
after he turned around, I laughed to myself in secrecy. 

Before we climbed, Evan latched us to a cable that ran
vertical up the ladder. I kept my vision upward as we continued our ascent.
With only the flashlights on our helmets, nothing was visible besides the soles
of Evan’s dirty boots above me. Peering past him was dizzying, and after
climbing for just a few minutes, looking down was no longer a choice I wanted
to make.

“How’re you doing?” he called out from above me.

“I’m okay,” I said as he stopped.

“The entrance isn’t far. Be careful when you step
outside. It gets pretty windy up there.” His voice rang.

“Got it,” I said nervously. After pushing on a door
above him, the auroras appeared again, revealing the vastness of space above.
Evan climbed out, and not long after, I peered through the opening.

The gusts were a lot stronger up here, the blades of
the turbine spinning in even intervals, still stretching far above us. After
hooking his safety cord to a nearby rail, Evan leaned down, pulling me to my
feet by the grip of his hand. His hair blew steady in the wind as my body
trembled from the adrenaline coursing through my veins, gripping his palm
tightly to step up. My hair blasted horizontally against my neck as he held me
in a fixed, stable foothold, but I was still hesitant to let go.

“See? It’s not so bad once you get up here,” he said,
smiling as I sighed of relief. I tried to calm myself, realizing how close we
were from the edge. Keeping my focus on him, I became mesmerized by the
fearlessness in his eyes. But when I examined the view beyond him, the open
night sky and vast mountain wilderness haunted me. I gazed upon the rock
formations below as Evan hooked my harness cord to the rail. Speechless, I
expelled my fear and moseyed closer to the railing. “I told you it was worth
it,” he said, standing beside me.

“You can see everything from up here, even the city…”
I said, my hair blustering in the breeze behind me.

“Yeah, and even the things they don’t want you to
see,” Evan nodded, gazing off to our left with a wince. I turned my head
abruptly, looking in the direction he was. Far off in the distance was a faint
orange glow—a fire spread across thousands of acres of wilderness. Ahead of the
blaze were an array of fire tornadoes, their smoky vortexes reaching high into
the sky.

“Oh my god,” I said, my eyes widening as the smoke
rose higher into the atmosphere.

“They won’t say much about it, but there’s still a war
going on out there. Aaron thinks the fires were ignited by the rebels, but…
something tells me otherwise,” Evan sighed.

“You think the military started them?” I asked.

“I think they bombed the area after they captured that
girl,” he said with conviction, a hint of agitation arising.

“So many people have suffered because of this. Even
back when I was living with my sister.”

“What happened there?” he asked.

“Same as here. People were starving, losing their
homes. Some ended up on the streets and got caught up in the riots. Some were
wrongfully accused, being hauled away to be killed. The funny thing was, some
were actually grateful to be captured. It’s like they wanted to be put out of
their misery. Now, I’d do anything to make their deaths mean something.” I was
almost in tears now. Evan gave me a long stare, as if he was contemplating a
response, but wasn’t sure how to verbalize it.

“You know, there’s more fight left in you than I
thought there was,” he said, analyzing me. With a shy grimace, I took a deep
breath.

“I don’t know what my problem is. I can’t control
myself anymore. I—I never used to be so resistant.”

“The problem isn’t you. It’s the way things have
changed. Not a lot of people have the courage to challenge authority anymore.
Or even admit that what they’re doing is wrong. People have gotten blind to it
in the hopes they’ll be chosen to survive. The fact that you haven’t says a
lot. You’re still real, Aubrey. And you’re the bravest person I know.” He
stared at me in an unexpected admiration.

“But there’s no point in being brave if I have no
power against this. My actions only hurt the people I care about,” I said.

“That’s what happens when you try to change the world.
There’ll always be someone or something trying to stop you. But you never let
it stop you before,” Evan said, looking away in pity.

“What do you mean? I left you here, Ev. I let this
control me.”

“And you could have allowed that same excuse to
prevent you from coming back here to change things, but you didn’t,” he said.

Evan removed his helmet, latching it to his harness.
He stepped closer, reaching underneath my chin to unhook mine before looking
away abruptly. In hesitation, I pulled it off, revealing my messy hair, tossed
and tangled under the weight of it. Evan stared toward the horizon, gripping
onto the railing. Overhead, it was opening up again—the familiar iridescent
glow, slinking like serpents against the darker portions of the atmosphere. It
seemed much more vibrant from up here.

I winced before grabbing his arm, and when I did, he
shifted his vision toward me. Our eyes adjusted as he grabbed my hand, glancing
from the skyline to me. Struggling to ease my pain, I clutched his fingers,
curling them with his, the anticipation behind his glimpse making me cave as I
glanced at the clearing, blinking away tears.

“I almost turned around. I almost changed my mind
about leaving town after what you said...” I confessed, ashamed by how
difficult it was for me to admit.

“Aubrey...” he trailed off. I observed his calmness,
his willingness to listen comforting me, giving me the confidence to find the
right words. He stayed silent, studying me, his eyes following the hair
whipping against my cheeks.

I swallowed before continuing.

“All this time, I’ve taken you and everyone for
granted...” A tear dried against my cheek as I forced my eyes closed in pain.
He stared, frozen by my much needed confession as I let it bleed out. “If this
ends badly, I just want to say you were the reason I made it this far. What you
told me back then… it helped me hold on. You saved my life, not only that
night, but every single day after,” I continued.

He remained speechless. Then, in a second of
hesitation, he put his hand up to the side of my face, guiding his thumb along
the scar near my eyebrow, the softness of his touch causing memories to flash
through my head—recollections of the accident.

“This won’t end badly.” He winced when I looked up at
him. “You know, Aubrey… You saved me once too. After my father died. That’s why
I fought so hard for you to stay.” I swallowed, looking out at the mountains in
tears. “But you have to promise me you’ll stop blaming yourself. That you’ll
let go of the guilt.”

A tear streamed down my cheek as I avoided his stare.
He placed his hands on my shoulders, pulling himself toward me as he kissed my forehead.
Flashbacks of his father’s funeral, the news headlines, and the night of the
crash disintegrated in my mind, until all that was left was him. He wiped my
tears away with his thumbs before pulling me toward him in a locked embrace.

“Promise me,” he said gently. I winced as he heaved
his emotions, closing my eyes one last time. When I opened them a few moments
later, he stood inches away from me again, gazing at the sky behind me with
glossy vision. The moon was bright and full, rising higher now. Underneath its
light ignited a kaleidoscope of colors—a phenomenon that continued to haunt our
lives.

He examined my face again, waiting patiently for my
agreement.

“I promise,” I said. Still searching for more, his
focus ventured across my face, unmasking a true appreciation—a longing for my
happiness—something that had been clouded by tragedy for years. My eyes watered
as he tucked my wind-blown hair behind my ear to move it away. Giving him the
only thing he ever sought from me, I smiled—an expression that felt full and
real for the first time since before the accident. His relief lingered in my
memory as he pressed his lips to mine in an unconditional kiss. And within the
warmth of his comfort, I believed everything would be okay. That I’d find a
way.