Fractured (11 page)

Sorrow swelled in my chest, crushing me from the inside out, filling my lungs and lodging in my throat. Was Nick in the Countryside now? Or had he gone somewhere like the Blinding City? Jim had said it was a place for addicts. But Nick had seemed so young. So in need of gentleness and mercy. I wanted to believe that’s what he would get, but I’d seen enough to know it might not turn out that way. It made me want to scream with grief, even though I’d only known him for a few minutes. It had been long enough to feel him tremble in my arms, to see how hurt he was, and to have his hopeful, shy smile burned into my memory.

He was the reason we had to succeed against the Mazikin. They were taking the homeless, the street kids, the ones no one noticed or cared about. They were using people who had already suffered so much, and they were condemning them to hell.

“Henry,” I said, “I need you to drop us off at the Station, and then go back to the nest and watch it. If they try to clear out, you have to let us know. We’ll hit it tonight, but you’re right—they could move before then if they know we’re after them.” And considering how we’d left two corpses in the basement—along with my phone and my knife—it seemed like a distinct possibility. Especially if that female Mazikin had reported to Sil that we chased her last night. Like an idiot, Jim had actually
asked
her if she was a Mazikin. Which meant that at this point, they probably knew that the Guards of the Shadowlands had followed them to the land of the living.

“I can go with Henry,” Malachi said as he stared at his hands. He’d stopped rubbing them, but was now grasping his knees so tightly that his knuckles had turned as pale as his face.

“No, you can’t,” I replied. It was the easiest decision I’d made all day.

Malachi closed his eyes. The sorrow inside of me expanded, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for him. I knew we’d have to deal with this, have to talk about what he had done, have to make sure it didn’t ever happen again. But Malachi was obviously devastated, and seeing him this way hurt me almost as much as Nick’s death. My fingers skimmed along his brow, an offer of warmth, of myself. Not as his Captain, but as his girlfriend.

Henry pulled into the driveway of the Guard house. “Do you need a minute before I leave?” he asked, watching in the rearview mirror as I waited for Malachi to lean into me like he sometimes did, to seek more from me like I knew he needed.

“Yes,” I said at the same time that Malachi said, “No,” and then flung open the car door and bolted. My hand was still hovering where his head had been when he disappeared into the house.

I swallowed, my throat aching. “Henry, do you have what you need? You understand what I want you to do?”

He nodded, regarding me in the mirror.

“All right. See you later, then. Be careful.”

I got out of the car and trudged into the Guard house. It was slowgoing because every step sent crunching, vicious pain from my ankle to my knee. Clinging to the railing, I climbed the stairs to the second floor and heard the shower already running. By the time I got to the top, steam was billowing out from under the door of the bathroom. I rested my head against the wall and stared at the swirling cloud. Malachi was trying to wash himself clean. I’d done that a few times before. Maybe more than a few times. I knew how it felt to sit under scalding water and wish it were enough.

Knowing I needed to give him time, I carefully descended the steps.

And found Jim sitting in the parlor. Like he was waiting for me to find him there. His shirt was ripped, and his blond hair was a mess, but he looked sober enough as he watched me sink into the nearest chair.

I rested my elbows on my knees and let my head hang. Every part of me hurt. “So. You decided to come back.”

“Raphael found me and brought me in a little while ago. He said I needed to decide what I was going to do and to let you know.”

“And what are you deciding?”

“Whether I’m going to stay.”

I raised my head. “And?”

Jim’s face twisted with pain. “I’m not … I’m not a very good Guard.”

No kidding
. “Then why did you get assigned to this field unit?” I asked, working hard to keep my voice gentle rather than accusatory. “Did you mess up or something? Is this, like, a second chance?”

“More like a
last
chance,” he said, rising abruptly to pace.

“What do you mean?”

“It was here or the Wasteland,” he mumbled.

Thinking of how Henry described the place, I said, “Are you telling me that if you choose not to be part of this field unit, the Wasteland is your alternative? Dude, why would you quit if
that’s
where you’d go?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and held onto his biceps. “Because I realized Henry was right last night. You guys are depending on me. And that …” He set his shoulders and turned to me. “I’m not good at keeping my Guard partners alive.”

I stared up into his deep-blue eyes and saw the pain there. The guilt. The regret. “Tell me?”

He grimaced and shook his head.

“Consider that an order.”

He closed his eyes. “His name was Bomani. He’s dead because of me. That’s why I’m here.”

I waited to speak until he was looking at me again. “So maybe this is your chance to redeem yourself.”

“I don’t deserve a chance,” he blurted. “You
really
don’t understand. Bomani was a good Guard. A great one. He was about to be released into the Countryside. He’d gotten rid of all his possessions and lived on simple rations, bread and water and nothing else. In the Blinding City, where everyone’s addicted to something, where everyone’s trying to get stuff so that they can have more than everyone else, where everyone’s chasing a high, that’s the sign you’re ready to get out. We all knew Bomani was about to go.

“And I … I hated him. He was always in my way. Always trying to stop me from going out, from getting things I wanted.” He started to pace again, like a caged animal. “One night, I got in over my head. I snuck out of the Station to meet up with a girl, and it turned out to be a setup. I thought she could give me what I wanted, but it turned out she and her gang wanted something from
me
. Like the patrol schedules and routes of the Guards, so they could take us out one by one, keep us from interfering with their plans or whatever.” He bowed his head and chuckled, a choked, sad sound. “Bomani was too clever for his own good. He tracked me to the apartment and tried to get me out. But I knew … I knew he would tell my Captain that I’d sneaked out, and then I’d be punished. That they’d lock me in the Quiet Room, this tiny cell with nothing in it, where I’d be alone with—with—just …
me
.” He shuddered, and suddenly his crazed fear at the mention of a holding cell the night before made a lot more sense.

He rubbed a hand over his face. “It shouldn’t have mattered. It was what I deserved anyway. But I was so selfish, and when they attacked Bomani …” He trailed off, and then met my stare. “I let them kill him. That’s why I’m here, Captain.” He swiped his sleeve over his eyes. “Happy now?”

I stared at him, somehow knowing everything rode on my reaction to this horrible revelation. He’d stood by and let another Guard die, which made me feel sick. But I remembered what Malachi had said about the importance of forgiving Henry for his past and believing in him now. And hearing the agony in Jim’s voice … I knew I needed to at least try. “Jim, I need you to tell me the truth, not what you think I want to hear, okay? No bullshit.”

He shot me a wary look.

“If you could do it over again—knowing you’d be punished—”

“In a heartbeat,” he whispered. “I relive it every night, every day. I’d stop them. I’d let them kill me if that’s what it took.”

“Then take this chance, Jim. Stay sober. Follow orders. Help us keep more people from dying. You were chosen for this mission for a reason. I have to believe that. I don’t think the Judge makes decisions randomly, and this is no exception. Which means we need you, or we’re going to lose.”

He hadn’t looked away. In fact, he was staring at me with this desperate look in his eye. “But what if I—”

“We all make mistakes. And some of them are really bad,” I said in a husky voice, hearing the shower switch off upstairs. “But that doesn’t mean we’re allowed to use those mistakes as excuses. In fact, doing that makes them even worse. If you want to honor Bomani, then you need to do your job here on Earth. If you want his death to mean nothing, then go to the Wasteland. It’s up to you.”

He sat down quickly like he had no more energy to stand. “You actually want me to stay?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. You could have gotten us both into a lot of trouble last night. And I’m pretty sure you tipped off the Mazikin that we’re here, hunting them. But like I said, I have to believe you’re here for a reason. Otherwise, the Judge would have sent you straight to the Wasteland, right? Why give you a choice at all?”

He frowned.

From upstairs, I heard the sound of Malachi’s door closing. I sighed. “If you’re willing to do this job, I’m willing to give you a chance, but expect your leash to be short. Let me know what you decide. I have to go upstairs and talk to the Lieutenant.”

As I limped from the room, I could have sworn I heard Jim whisper, “Thank you.”

TEN

I WALKED UP THE
stairs, practicing a little speech in my head, very similar to the one I’d just given Jim, since it had seemed to work out well. Not only for him but for me, too. It had helped me realize where my focus needed to be. What Malachi had done was shocking and tragic. It couldn’t happen again. We’d have to plan and train so that it didn’t. But … it was also an accident. He’d burst in on a dangerous situation and had made a mistake in the heat of battle. It was an error any of us could have made. He needed to know I understood that.

Two of the bedroom doors on the second floor were open. One room was messy, the other neat. Probably Jim’s and Henry’s, in that order. And the third door was closed. I went over to it and knocked.

“Not now, please,” he called.

“It’s me.”

Silence. For, like, a whole minute. Enough to make my heart pound harder. Then, “Come in.”

I opened the door. He was sitting at a desk. He had changed into track pants and a T-shirt, and his damp black hair was sticking up every which way, like he’d just been rubbing it with the towel that was draped over his shoulder. His face was still pale. His arms and hands were red and raw. And there were little lines etched around his mouth, like he’d aged a few years in the last hour.

“You should call Raphael to heal you,” he said. “That bump on the side of your head looks quite bad. And you’re limping.”

“I might, later. Talking to you was more important.”

He winced and looked away.

“Malachi,” I said, reaching out to him. “I know you must be feeling really bad—”

“You have no idea,” he said in a strained voice, rising from his chair. “
No
idea.”

“Okay, but I can imagine. And I can see it on your face.”

His nostrils flared as he let out a breath. “It won’t happen again. That I can promise you.”

My fingers stretched out to touch his, but he laced them behind his head and stared at my hand like it was a poisonous snake. I cleared my throat. “I know you don’t want it to happen again, but we need to talk about how to prevent it—”

“I already know how to prevent it,” he said in a quiet voice.

“You do? That’s, um, good.” I’d expected to have to give him a pep talk, and he seemed to have already managed it for himself. “Can you tell me your plan?”

His dark eyes met mine, and he let his hands fall to his sides. “Yes, I need to.” He stared down at me for a long moment, and then squared his shoulders like he was facing an opponent in battle. “I can’t do this, Lela. I was arrogant and stupid to believe I could.”

It took me several seconds to process his words, and when I did, my mouth dropped open. “You’re quitting? Jeez! Jim might be doing the same thing, and that’s bad enough. You
can’t
quit, Malachi. I’ll never be able to do this without you.”

Pain flashed in his eyes, and then it was gone, smoothed over. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m not quitting. Even if I could, I wouldn’t, because you need me.”

“Exactly.” I shuffled forward on my aching legs, needing to feel him, to be in his arms. “You scared me for a second there.”

He caught my wrists before my hands reached his body and whispered, “But I can’t do
this
.”

My heart picked up a frantic, uneven rhythm. I stood, with my arms out to my sides, held there gently in his hands. “You can’t do …
what?
” I mouthed it more than said it. My throat had closed.

“If I am your Lieutenant, I shouldn’t be anything else. I can’t touch you like I have.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “And you can’t look at me like that.”

“But you said—when we were in front of the Judge, you said …” He’d said he loved me. He’d said it. I’d heard him. The moment was etched onto my heart in vivid detail.

He closed his eyes. “Regardless of what I said, this is over between us. I can’t do my job like this. What happened today proved that. I was so consumed with fear of you being hurt that I killed an unarmed
boy
. Someone who needed my help. A person you were trying to save.”

“Anyone could have made that mistake,” I argued, my voice cracking. “You had a split second to assess the situation.”

“I have been a Guard for seventy years, and I have never made a mistake like that.” His eyes opened, and in them I saw myself, pleading and desperate. “Even if I had, it’s different here. We are in the land of the living. That boy was innocent, and I deprived him of his life.” He released my wrists and took a giant step back. “Because of my feelings for you.”

I stood there like an idiot, my arms still out at my sides, reaching for the comfort of his body, for
him
. “I know it’s taking some time to adjust to this new place. But it’s not me—it’s not us.” I knew how pathetic I sounded, but I didn’t care. “Please. We can talk this through.”