To Be Free (15 page)

I flush at
his words, not because of the words themselves but because of
the
implications
.

"I won't deny it, you fucking
pervert," he sighs, but he's laughing a bit too so it's a bit
questionable, what he's feeling. "You managed to make me
comfortable with the idea of having sex with you, and we've known
each other for about a week!"

He throws his hands up in the
air, letting them smack down on my chest, and he scoffs at my
honest-to-God surprised expression. I sit up a little, forcing him
to readjust his position so he sits on my thighs instead. I then
take his face in my hands and look at him dead-on, all sarcasm and
teasing gone.

"You get one thing straight,
love," I start, his cheeks darkening at the nickname. He swallows
thickly, hands having fallen to my thighs. "When you feel ready to
do that and we do, I won't be having sex with you." For a moment
he's confused, but he lets me finish before he speaks. "Seb, when
you take me to your bed, I'll be making love to you, not fucking
you. You're worth more to me than a one-night-stand or a summer
love, and you're fucking precious to me. That night, and every
other night should you allow it, I will treat you the way you
should've been treated the first time."

His jaw's dropped, and he
watches me as I continue.

"I will
make
our
first
time together feel like what
your
first time
should’ve
felt like," I vow, and he
smiles shakily at me. "As well as every time after."

He's shaking his head, laughing
lightly.

"You crazy fool," he sighs,
looking back at me with the gentlest smile on his lips. "Fuck it. I
give up; you can have my fucking heart. It's yours, okay? You
win!"

I look at him curiously, and he
takes one of my hands and places it against his chest, so I can
feel his heart beating.

“
My only
request is that we focus on other things for now,” he informs me,
and as he speaks his heartbeat slowly regulates its pace. Offering
me a smile, he laces our fingers together while keeping my palm
over his heart. “We can't afford to get distracted, and soon enough
we'll be free. Then we have all the time in the world.”

I nod. It's a simple request,
one I'm not against following through with – the logic is rather
sound, when you think about it, too.

“
In the
meantime, let's focus on surviving,” I agree, and he looks
genuinely relieved, as if he wasn't expecting me to agree. “So,
we've got a deal?”

“
Seems that
way,” he says, lowering our hands from his chest. Seb's eyes are
flickering back and forth across my face, and he's smiling a small,
happy smile. “In the meantime, while we make tracks, I'll show you
how to use your gift. I think I've got it figured out – how you'll
be able to use it, I mean, although we'll see it when we
try.”

Soon afterwards we break camp,
packing up and erasing all evidence of our presence. After suiting
up again and pulling the cowls of our cloaks over our heads again,
I shoulder our one pack and we step out into the forest, ready to
face the world and run from its murderers.

• If We Had
  the Courage to Admit Our Sins
  

SEBASTIAN

The world beyond that little
sanctuary is the mixture of forgotten haven and city outskirts. The
immediate area surrounding the tree we hid beneath for an
indeterminable amount of time is mountains, trees and rivers we
bypass in the dead of night, the distant sounds of traffic
accompanying us. As we walk I recall my general knowledge of
California's geography and the path stretching through the state
like fingers beneath its surface, out of sight and forgotten by
time, I have a general idea of where we are.

It takes me a little longer to
recall where Catchford is in this state, and where the facility
lies as well – on the outskirts of Sacramento and Redding,
respectively – and make a mental map of our journey thus far. Quinn
contents himself with carrying the pack for a while, allowing me my
quiet musings and only enquiring as to why I look so thoughtful.
When I answer by telling him I'm trying to figure out where in the
world we are, he nods and leaves me to it.

The path we stumbled on,
according to the ghosts who whispered at me throughout our journey
this morning through its labyrinth, would today be somewhere to the
east of Burney, and we sort-of went north-northwest. So, given all
that, we should be somewhere near...

“
Huh,” Quinn
comments quietly, arching an eyebrow as he pauses in his steps and
peers through the trees to a long stretch of road that sees very
little activity this late at night. Or ever, really. I clasp my
hands together and press them against the back of my head, leaning
back on my right heel and pressing the toes of my left foot on the
dry ground at our feet. “I haven't been to Yreka in a long
time.”

He looks at our surroundings a
moment longer, making a face.

“
It hasn't
changed much.”

I laugh dryly, not as
well-versed with the landscape of California beyond Catchford
itself, and the modernized city is nothing to gawk at either. It's
just... lots of glass and metal and shining technology.

Yreka looks
forgotten more than anything, one of this county's last cities that
have survived the N.O. and their wrath on anything having to do
with this country's old affiliates. As we walk into the city, the
word
graveyard
comes to mind.

Everyone moved to other cities
with the Purge not long after the church began its reign in 2020,
the Vigils evicting everyone and confining us to other cities that
developed with the dawn of new technology, becoming more reliant on
the machinery. The other cities, this one included, saw their
downfall on the day of the Purge.

It was the darkest day of
mankind. The darkest years, I should say, as the Vigils stormed
every house, every place known to contain a Carrier, and dragged
them out even though they did nothing wrong. Tossed them into vans,
piling them in by the dozens and beat up those who tried to fight
back, their half-dead corpse complying to their instructions as
they were manhandled, bloody, bruised and broken, into those
vans.

Then they were taken to the
slaughterhouses scattered across the country, the facilities that
dissected them and discovered their secrets. Their military-grade
technology is a result of the tests they performed on people like
Quinn and I, certain gifts they managed to harvest being put to use
in their weapons and radars, outfits and vehicles.

The concept of Runners was born
from that time, as people Paired off and got hitched at insanely
young ages, just like back in time. Society has taken a step back
through time instead of forward, and we're falling back into our
past mistakes instead of learning from them.

It needs to stop.

The houses we pass are old and
crumbling, made of wood and stone and bricks, and the signs that
used to display what its ancient buildings contained have fallen or
have been weathered away, leaving no indication of what once was.
The asphalt we walk across into the forgotten town is mangled with
greenery, trees and plants crawling over it and entire houses
fallen or taken over by nature. Cars sit in their driveways and on
the streets, rusting away with every passing day.

It's a very
lonely atmosphere, children's toys scattered on lawns and streets.
Wooden crosses stuck into the ground by the road; no doubt the
result of people returning at some point to mark the place a loved
one has died. By one of these stands a stuffed toy, darkened with
time as it stays by the side of the cross that is more black than
white.

I stop when I see that, the
wind picking up slightly and making the stuffed bear move gently
with it as it remains stapled to the wood. I can't even make out
the colour it once was, but still I kneel by the marker and bow my
head, offering my respects.

Quinn notices my actions, and
he leaves the pack on the ground a moment so he can do the same. I
look along the road we kneel by, and my eyes find cross after
cross, some gouged with the name of the deceased, others not. There
are at least two hundred lined up along both sides of this nameless
road, what I'm assuming was the main road of this town.

Tears come to my eyes as I look
at the forgotten memorials, some displaying a bouquet of fake
flowers that are barely holding on to life, to remain a testament
of their love longer than real ones would've; others have a box of
memories; some, like this one, a stuffed animal or something that
was of importance to the deceased... the list goes on and on.

I press my
fingers to my lips, the tears coursing down my cheeks. I don't stop
them; the truth of the horrors of what the N.O. has done for the
sake of their own beliefs, forcing them onto us and denying us our
freedom even though it's a human right, was never really evident to
me. Sure, I knew of the numbers like everyone else who wasn't born
in this country, but to see the impact it had, how people risked
their lives to leave behind the proof that this person
existed
, this
person
mattered
,
and this person died for something they should not have been blamed
for.

Quinn places a hand against my
shoulder, squeezing gently, and I find myself speaking in my native
tongue for the first time in a long time, my mind so completely
scattered and shocked that English is lost to me.

“
Ruhe in Frieden; ich werde eure
Seelen rächen, das verspreche ich Ihnen diese.
”

I'm shaking as I wipe my eyes,
getting up to my feet and taking in a deep, broken breath. Quinn's
watching me from where he's still kneeling, and I press my hand to
my chest, fisting it as I salute the fallen.

My companion has a curious look
on his face, obviously curious, but there's also a hint of
understanding in that expression as well. He knows what I said – or
the basic gist of it, at least – without having to even ask.

Rest in peace; I will avenge
your souls, I promise you this.

Without another word we head
out along the road, the sun cresting the horizon and painting the
world orange.

We're in the heart of the city
when the sounds of the helicopters reach our ears. The decrepit
remains of convenience stores and small buildings are all around
us, most blown to bits with raging storms and weakened by time.
Quinn and I both stop walking, looking to the sky to see the metal
bird sailing through the air and heading right for this town.

Neither of us
pauses to think; we run for the nearest building, a huge chunk of
brick that has barely survived, with an entire wall missing and a
portion of the roof caved in. The windows that used to be the doors
are blown to bits, and we run through the opening into the store as
the sound becomes deafening, multiplying.

My only
thought is that
they've found
us
.

The second set of doors is
somewhat more intact, so Quinn uses his elbow to smash through it,
then kicking the shards away with his foot so we can run at a
crouch through the broken shards.

The farthest corner of the
store is gone, caved in and allowing minimal light to filter
through the broken remains as we press our backs to the wall, the
pack forgotten at our feet as we do our absolute best to stop our
laboured breathing. My eyes are clamped shut in the dusty
atmosphere, the building creaking dangerously as I swear softly
under my breath.

I don't want
to have to use
that
.

The helicopters seem to land
somewhere nearby, their spinning rotors deafening us. I get as
close to Quinn as I can and speak in his ear, as loudly as I
dare.

“
I need you
to try to use your gift; we're in for a fight!” I shout over the
howl of the machines, swallowing thickly. He nods, but the man
looks petrified.

I don't blame him.

“
From what
I've gathered, it works with your fear and self-hatred,” I
continue, one hand gripping his shoulder tightly. “Your emotions
trigger your gift – that's the first step!”

Then there's complete silence,
though we're far from alone. I lower my voice to a hiss.

“
Imagine what you want to have happen, and
see
it happen. Believe
it's happening with everything you've got; that's the most I can
help.”

Eleven nods again, looking
slightly overwhelmed, and I smile at the man, hugging him
briefly.

“
I'll buy you
some time,” I inform him, and he's about ready to interject when I
cut him off. “The best thing you can do for me right now is try to
control your gift. Just calm down and find what's going to help you
control it the most effectively. Alright?”

Nodding again, he sighs and
leans his head against mine, looking away from me.

“
Be careful,
Seb,” he whispers, and I kiss him quickly on his lips, pulling back
slowly.

“
We know you're in there,
experiments Nine and Eleven! Come on out quietly and without a
fight, or we will use force!
”

“
I love you,”
I smile, pulling away from his touch completely. Letting my cloak
slip to the floor so that all I'm wearing on my person is the suit,
I leave the man behind and hold my hands up after I walk through
the first door in a crouch, the second standing as straight and
proud as I am.