Away From the Sun (15 page)

“Oh, of course,” I say. I stand quickly and make my way to the door.

I’m almost out of the room when I hear him sigh. “Wait,” he says. “I’m sorry. Come back.”

I turn around to face him and I can see that he’s standing. He motions to a different seat this time—behind the desk and next to the wall. “Have a seat. I’m not too busy. I was just a little taken aback. You’ve been here a week and I’ve heard you speak about two sentences.” He shakes his head again. “I would be happy to talk to you.”

I walk to the chair across the room slowly. I can already tell that I’m not displaying the personality of a
touchy person,
so I’ve got to step up my game. “What a crazy world we live in, huh?”
What a dumb thing to say.

“You can say that again,” Stephen smiles. He bends over and reaches for something under his desk and comes up with a bottle and two glasses.
 

I sit down about a foot away from him and he swivels around and hands me a glass. It’s already in my hands and he’s pulling away before it even occurs to me that I could have used this moment to touch his hand. I bite my lip in frustration.
 

“Moonshine,” Stephen says, “all the way from Kentucky.”

“How did you get it here?” I ask.
 

“I’ve had it since before the outbreak,” he says, pouring me an amount that is far more than a shot. I’m already wincing at the thought of drinking it, but alcohol will be good. It will make more sense for me to touch his hand if I loosen up.

He downs his first cup before even going into conversation. And he doesn’t start talking until he’s refilled his glass. I take a tiny sip of the moonshine and it makes my eyes water.
 

“What is this, rubbing alcohol?”
 

Stephen smiles. “Good, isn’t it?”

I nod, but it’s a lie. It’s awful.
 

“So you want to know how I came to be here?”

I nod again. I take another sip. It’s everything I can do not to spit it out in front of him. When I swallow, it feels like fire just burned off my tonsils.
 

“Believe it or not, I have been living in Elkhorn since I was a little boy,” he says. “I have a lot of good memories here.” He looks down at his glass. “A lot of bad ones, too.”

“How were you chosen to be the leader here?” I ask.
 

“I wasn’t chosen so much as it just happened. My wife and I were here. The settlement started because we were taking people into our home when the outbreak took place. The group became too big for our house, so with the help of everyone, we started building walls and converting office buildings into homes.”

“I didn’t know you have a wife,” I say.
 

“I
did
have a wife,” he says. “She’s dead now.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say. This time I reach out a hand to touch his, but he’s still too far away. He gives me a curious stare as I hold my arm out in the air and he keeps his fingers firmly fitted on his glass. He shakes his head and takes another swig as I let my arm drop next to me, my cheeks turning crimson. “How many people are here now?” I ask, taking another drink, this time a much bigger gulp. I can barely hear his answer as the burning liquid washes down my throat and I start coughing uncontrollably. I lean forward with my head between my legs, reaching my arm out in front of me. This time, I’m not even meaning to do it.
 

He sets his glass down on the desk next to him and leans forward. “Are you all right?” he asks. “I shouldn’t have given you so much.”

I try to wave him off, but I can’t stop coughing.
Can’t stop coughing…don’t stop coughing!
This is my chance. The need to cough subsides, but I continue anyway. Now, I fall out of the chair and onto my knees. Surely he will try to help me up.
 

I know I’m making a fool of myself when I fall over onto my side, still coughing—no, wheezing now.
Wheezing is much better!
Finally, I let it subside and I crawl back onto my knees.
 

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” he says.
 

I reach an arm up into the air for him to grab it and help me up. Without hesitation, Stephen grabs my hand and a bright, white light flashes in front of my eyes.
 

 
There are several people huddled together in a dark room, all facing a figure standing in front of them with a rifle, ready to fire. I stare at the figure until I recognize who it is. It’s Ashley. The others are Stephen, Lydia, and…me…my future self!
 

“What does she want?” Stephen asks, looking at Waverly.
 

“The vial of blood,” she answers

“Don’t give it to her, Waverly,” he says.
 

Ashley speaks next, looking at Stephen. “You’re the one that will die if she doesn’t take me to it.” She is sweating, and standing slouched as if she is injured in some way.
 

“Why do you need me?” Waverly asks. “You know where it is.”

“Because if it’s not there, I’m going to kill all of you,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Just take me,” Waverly pleads. “You don’t need them.”
 

Ashley grips the rifle even tighter and pulls the door open behind her. “All of you, now.”

The three of them leave the room with Ashley pointing the gun to their backs. They walk the dark halls. They climb the bleak stairs. The only sounds are their heavy breathing and soft, echoing footsteps. The walls are cracked and crumbling. Occasionally there is a dead body lying on the floor. This was a war zone. Is this Elkhorn? It doesn’t look like it, yet they were all headed to Waverly’s room.
 

I can finally see some resemblance of where I have been staying as I watch the group enter the room. Ashley points the rifle at Waverly and commands her to get the small canister. Waverly reaches under the bed and grabs the tin box that hides the treasured blood. She opens the box and grabs the canister. Ashley tells her to toss it to her, but Waverly stands, walks over to her and sets it in her palm gently.
 

“You’re nothing but a traitor,” Stephen says to Ashley through clenched teeth. “You’re just Shadowface’s puppet.”

Ashley shakes her head. She looks like she’s about to say something, but no words come. Instead, she rears back and slams the butt of the rifle into the side of Stephen’s head.

A bright light flashes and I’m back to the present.

I try not to let shock show on my face when I pull away from Stephen, but I don’t feel like I’m succeeding. I look away from him, but all I see is the image of him getting beaten in the face by Ashley—the one that’s going to betray us.
 

Does this mean Ashley works for Shadowface? Is she walking around the settlement, thinking of the best way to sabotage Elkhorn and its people?

“Are you okay?” Stephen asks me. He holds his hands out like he wants to help me walk, but I wave him away.
 

“I’m fine,” I say. “That’s just really strong stuff.” I start walking toward the door. “I’ve got to go, I think I’m going to be sick.”

I don’t give Stephen a chance to respond before I’m out the door and walking down the hallway next to Ethan. We hurry up a flight of stairs and make our way to my room without a word. When I sit on the cot, Ethan immediately hands me the notepad and pencil we prepared for writing the visions down, though I’m sure I’m not going to forget what I just saw.
 

Ethan gets a little impatient. “Did you see Shadowface’s men? Are they coming?”

“I think so,” I say. He tries to ask me more, but I don’t say a word until everything I can remember is written down on paper. I start with the name, Stephen, and the description of the room. It was a dark, tight space. There was me, Stephen, Lydia, and of course, Ashley. I describe the scene in full detail as best I can. Once I’m finished, I hand the notepad to Ethan and he reads it carefully.
 

When he finishes, his eyes are wide and he shakes his head. “This is crazy.”

“I know.”

“I wonder if she is acting alone or if Jeremiah and Mitch are in on it too,” he says.
 

I shrug and take a deep breath. “I suppose there is only one way to know.”

Everyone here is in danger. My first thought goes to Remi. I don’t feel weird about going to her and trying to touch her hand, but the fact remains that I am too scared to learn of her future. Is that selfish of me? I have the opportunity to know if she is going to be safe or if she will be in danger. But then, I might not learn anything at all. For all I know, when I touch her,
 
I will see a vision of her next meal or something unimportant like that. But deep inside, I know that won’t be the case. That’s not how my power works. It’s a gift—a gift to help me discover my safest path. It tells me whether to act, or to remain still and let things be.
 

But when I read over and over what I wrote about Stephen’s future, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. How am I supposed to stop Ashley? Do I try to stop her long before she forces us to my room? If she gets to that Starborn blood, all of us will potentially be in a lot of danger.

Also, I’m a little nervous that I wasn’t with Ethan. Why wouldn’t he be near me? We have decided to stay close to each other. Does this mean that he’s already been shot?

The day after my encounter with Stephen, Ethan and I decide on the next target. He thinks I should go after Mitch, but I feel more comfortable talking to Jeremiah. I’ve never even spoken to Mitch except to say ‘
excuse me’
when I nearly ran into him walking down a hallway. Jeremiah has a safer, more approachable look than Mitch.
 

“But Mitch is closer to Ashley, I think,” Ethan says as we sit in my room. He sits on the floor against the far wall as he bounces an old tennis ball against the other side. “Don’t you think we might get more from him?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I think I need to look into both of them. Everyone, really.” I tap my pencil against the top of my notepad. I’ve written the names of all our targets on separate pages. I stare at the page open in my lap.
Remi.

“I think I’m going to tell my sister,” I say.
 

“Really?”

“She might already know,” I say. “She seems to be pretty close to Gabe. If he knows, she might, too.”

Ethan shakes his head. “I’ve already talked to him about it.”

“You have?”

He nods and tosses the ball against the far wall again. It bounces back onto the floor and into his palm. “I told him that if you wanted Remi to know about you, then you would tell her yourself. And he agreed.”

“Oh,” I say. “Thanks.”

He smiles and tosses the ball again.
 

“I just feel weird about trying to see
her
future and not telling her. I feel like she deserves to know.”

“Can you trust her?” he asks.
 

“I don’t know. I want to. I’ve talked with her a lot over the past week, but she seems so closed off. But she
is
my sister.”

“You do what you think is right,” Ethan says. “But know that you don’t owe her an explanation. You don’t owe anybody anything.”

I smile at him and he smiles back. This past week with Ethan has been a strange one. The fact that he has been so carefree about his own future helps me stay calm about it too. That doesn’t mean I’m not constantly thinking about it. I still plan to try and stop him from dying. It’s just good to have a partner again—someone I can trust. I feel bad that I lied about the second vision I saw of him. Well, him
and
me. I really don’t understand how I can see myself on a rooftop kissing him, but lately, it hasn’t seemed like such a crazy concept. He has been sweet. Supportive. Caring. He really wants to help me, and I’m not entirely sure that it’s for the benefit of all the others as much as it is for me. It’s crazy to think that with the world as it is, there are still people like him that are so selfless.

Without much more talk, we decide on Jeremiah. A couple of hours later, I find him standing outside in one of the parking lots. His jacket stands wide open and he seems oblivious to the chilly air. A stout cigar hangs loosely in his fingertips. Ethan stays behind just inside the entrance to the building. I know he won’t get shot in there because the vision showed him outside in the open.

Jeremiah straightens up when he sees me approaching, and he brings his cigar to his mouth, taking in a deep puff and releasing it into the air. The smoke is all I can smell and I have to hold my breath for just a second.
 

“If it isn’t Miss Waverly,” he says with a smile. There is something about him that looks off, but I can’t tell what it is. It shouldn’t matter to me. He has been kind to me so far. I just have to be on my guard. For all I know, his whole
going after Shadowface
thing could be a distraction to get to the vial of blood.
 

“You keeping warm out here, Jeremiah?” I ask.
 

“Oh, I love the cold,” he says. “The heat bothers my skin. Bothers me in general. But the cold? I might move a little slower, but it feels nice. Soothing, you know?”

I don’t agree, but I nod at him with a smile.

“What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping for a better start,” I say.
 

As expected, he looks at me with a confused stare. “I thought our start was good enough.”

“I mean, when you first came here, people weren’t exactly the most friendly. To me or to you. I just thought it would be nice to let you know that as far as I’m concerned, you’ve got a friend, and I’m glad you’re here to help us.” I hold a hand for him to shake it, but he only looks at it and takes another puff on his cigar.
 

“Does your little boyfriend have the same feelings, Starborn?” he asks, looking away from me.
 

“What? Boyfriend? Starborn? What are you talking about?” I let out a nervous laugh and scratch the back of my head awkwardly. I look back at Ethan and curse myself for not asking him to just stay in the room. I look back at Jeremiah, feeling flustered.