Glow (6 page)

18.

Lucy

The old photo albums my parents kept are spread out around my bed. Some of the photos are yellowed at the edges, but they’re all in protective sheets of plastic. I found them buried in a box high in their closet.

As I flip through pictures of people I never knew, a world I never felt, touched, smelled, a longing in my chest for a life I will never get, wraps tight around me. None of us here at the compound will ever get to experience the things these photos depict. Even if there are pockets of people like us around the world, it will never be like it was.

I hold up a photo of my parents on their wedding day. Mom’s in a full white gown, and Dad’s in a black suit. Shiny, happy, shoving cake into one another’s face.  When I’ve looked through these pictures before it made everyone at the compound upset. They didn’t like remembering. They wanted to forget.

I brush my fingers across my Mom’s cheek, her face covered by a white veil, as she walked down the aisle with the grandfather I never knew. This world, where unencumbered people danced to music played by musicians on a stage, where banquet tables of food was spread out for everyone to enjoy, where lights were bright and sound was amplified by speakers. This world existed such a short time ago.

And now.

Now we spend hours scavenging for white mushroom caps to add to a soup of water and rabbit. How is it possible for the world to change so much in a moment?

But that’s how it is, even still. One moment can change everything. Walking out of the compound after everyone died, taking off my Hazmat suit and saying
yes
to life -- even though I had no idea what that meant -- that moment changed everything. 

After the virus spread, things were grim for civilization, but it wasn’t until the blackout swept the world that everything stopped, forever. All the innovation and transformation that took centuries to create collapsed. All the energy sources the people in these photos relied on were too interconnected and power dependent.

I don’t want to depend on anything anymore. Depending gets you nowhere.

A thin book slides under the bedroom door. No knock, or words, just the volume slipped to me. I jump off the bed, curious as to what this is. Flipping open the leather cover, my heart races.
These are Integrity’s words.
I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t ask Lukas for it because I don’t want to want to know what he thinks of me and my light. I want to make my decisions without any input from anyone or anything. That’s why I wanted to come to the compound in the first place.

Scanning the first page quickly, I try and absorb his reflections of me. My chest burns, I feel scorched, exposed. He wrote about my test, and recounts the words I spoke in the Councilmen’s Chamber
,
“I just said the truth. My truth, now. Before I had nothing, and now, now I have honey and blueberries and a person partnered to help me. And hopefully a future. Here.”

It sounds foolish, looking back on it now, but that’s truly how I felt. Now my old words sting, knowing how The Light abused Mom, hurt Basil and Hana. It’s strange how many times we can change what we believe in a lifetime. In a year, a month, a day. We constantly transform into different versions of ourselves. Versions that grow more complicated the more we have experienced.

I flip the pages, pausing as I read Integrity’s thoughts on the dark room, but I remember those words from our conversation
.
“Girls like Basil are different. They need to see The Light more than girls like you. So, we help them see when they can’t … for certain ones it’s through confinement in the dark, to remind them how much they need The Light.”

Charlie said we need to have Dark to see the Light, but I don’t know what I think anymore. I flip to the next page, and that’s when my breath catches
.
“These two are the Rainbow Children I had hoped they were.”

What is that? What’s Integrity saying I am? I turnto the next page wanting to understand, but there are only a few lines in his sharp scrawl
,
“Lukas must bring her back. If he doesn’t, The Light will die and the world will return to darkness forevermore, never having a chance to reignite. The darkness that ate away the earth’s population in the first place will consume us all, and we will fade. As the sacred text says, ‘What once was lost will never be found, the unbelieving will stifle The Light, until it is gone, forever. And we will all flail in Darkness until the end of time.’ We need them, we need them to believe or else the Council will lead us into the darkness on their own.
”

His writing stops, and I look around my empty room as if Integrity would be standing there to fill in the blanks formulating in my mind.

He needs me to believe, but I don’t want to believe for anyone else.

I want to believe for me.

But I don’t know if I can take that risk. What if Integrity is right? What if the weight Lukas has always carried was for more than just supplying energy? What if he is the prophet, like everyone in the compound suddenly believes?

What if this is the moment? The moment that changes everything.

The moment I gave in, and chose to believe.

19.

Charlie

The voices rushing toward me grow louder. I strain to make out the words, and when one rider breaks away, I hear what he’s shouting,
“Charlie!”

Jax.

The Cowboy Coalition is here, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect, because I’m not prepared to fight The Light on my own. I didn’t intend to come here today to start a fight, I came for Perfection.

“Are they waging war?” Jax asks, breathless as he greets me.

“We have Lukas, and they want him back,” I explain. It’s my best guess.

“Then why not just come and take him?”

“I don’t know. People do stupid things when they’re scared. They have a girl who was with us and now they know how to get to Lukas.”

“No time to talk, let’s take care of these guys,” Jax says, raising his arms, rallying the crew he has led here. There must be a hundred cowboys with him.

I watch as they ride toward me, toward the group of men on the other side of the bridge. I’m sure none of the Councilmen are out here. They won’t want to get their hands dirty. The thought angers me, for my brother. For the brainwashing they did to him, making him into the person he is today. They need to pay.

My rage swells to the surface, and I whisper to Lucky, “Go.” And we ride to the men, standing in their pristine robes. I raise my gun, as I’ve practiced so many times before and prepare to shoot.

But out of the fray, she is there.

Standing in the middle, in between the men she’s chosen as her own. Selected over us. She runs toward me, and strangely the Humbleman don’t stop her.

“Charlie!” she screams. I ride closer, wanting to understand why Perfection is calling to me, still, after all these years. It’s clear what side she’s on.

She chose The Light the moment she chose to run away.

“Charlie, stay here. With me. It’s not too late; they’ll let you come. It’s the right way.” Her words bind her to the life she’s chosen.

“Never, Perfection. I was born to be free,” I say, meaning my words.

“I know you love me,” she says, playing with time. The cowboys are gaining ground, and they won’t hold back.

“We were kids. We grew up.” Callously, I raise my gun and shoot the Councilman behind her, no longer caring what the repercussions may be. Only caring that they don’t follow me back to where my brother is, where Lucy is.

As a man drops, Perfection screams in horror, in fear, in reverence.

In regret.

I see it cross her face, but then she’s running away. In that instant I know I’m done waiting for other people to decide when we should start this fight. I realize The Light waged war years ago; I was just too scared to fight back.

But I’m not scared anymore. So I shoot again. I shoot the men who have been accomplices to brutality. And I shoot the men who put my brother in chains. And I shoot the men to avenge for Lucy’s mom and all women like her. I don’t do it for fun, for pleasure, for joy.

I do it because justice isn’t served out here in the wilderness, not unless men and women like me are willing to raise our guns, with blood on our hands. The Cowboy Coalition joins me in the front line.

And the Humblemen fall. Their white robes soaked in red and I want grief to overwhelm me for the wasted lives of these men.

But there are no tears.

It has to be this way otherwise more lives will be wasted, ruined too. With the cowboys help we take down the men, and in the far away distance I see Perfection’s blond hair swirling behind her as she runs.

Runs away from me, from freedom, from herself. As she runs right back into the belly of the whale.

For a second I let myself remember our game. The game where Perfection and I chose mates. In the game she chose me, and I chose her, and we imagined a life with windows, a life without walls. A life of freedom.

A life Perfection is never going to find.

20.

Lukas

The afternoon passes painstakingly slow and soon evening falls over the compound. The anticipation of Charles returning with Perfection eats away at us, and we’re all anxious.

We sit in the study and Colton has his bottle out again, passing it around. We ate a big dinner thanks to Duke’s kill this afternoon of five rabbits. Without his hunting skills, we’d be nibbling on the random assortment of food we’ve gathered from our packs.

Lucy and I have been moving chess pieces around the board for over an hour. But we’re both so skilled there isn’t much moving. More like brooding, at least on her part. But I’m okay with this game lasting all night. It’s giving me ample opportunity to stare at her big green eyes; I swear her healing power works just by looking at her.

She makes me feel like anything is possible.

I want her to believe that anything is.

“This book is fascinating,” Junie says. She holds up the psychic book again, trying to conjure up something, like a conversation, but no one takes the bait. We’re all nervous wrecks right now as we wait on Charles.

“Are you perfecting your
natural talent
?” Colton asks, stifling a yawn.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am. I think this whole aura thing is real. Like, more than just Lucy and Lukas. This book says we all have them. It’s just that some people’s auras are more alive than others.”

“I bet I know your aura,” Colton retorts. “Annoying sister.”

“Ha ha. More like annoying brother.”

“Give her a break, Colton, at least this is something to talk about besides, you know, the topic we’re all avoiding,” Basil says, glancing at Lucy and me. “Like what the heck the plan here is?”

“What? Don’t look at me like that,” Lucy snaps. “I’m not the leader. I just wanted to come to my house, okay, and hang out. Regroup. Which is what I’m doing. I didn’t ask to have some fancy healing aura.”

“Okay, okay. Point taken. Lucy is
not
the leader,” Colton says, waving his hands in front of him, as if warding off Lucy’s spirit. “What aura’s do the rest of us have then, Junie?” Smiling widely, he embellishes his voice, “I ask as your ever genteel brother, requesting forgiveness for my bold and unreciprocated attempt at humor.”

He exaggerates his words, and it works like a charm. The room is full of smirks; it’s hard to avoid them with Colton running the show. He has a knack for smoothing things over, for making people comfortable. I wish I were more like him.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I will tell you,” Junie says, sitting up straighter now that the room has been forced to take her seriously. “Not everyone can read auras, but I honestly think I can. Like, I see things sometimes, or at least feel them. Does that sound weird?” She bites her lips and looks around the room, as though wondering if someone’s going to disagree.

“I think you can, Junie,” Lucy says, surprising everyone. She’s been in such a sour mood.

“Really?” Junie says.

“Well, remember that time I shook your hand? And you told me you always have static electricity when you touch people? I think it’s more than that.” She speaks matter of fact; all the while staring at the chessboard, like joining in the conversation fully would mean she’s invested.

“You do shock people, Junie,” Duke says, laughing. “I mean with that hoop through your nose and your tattoos, your shock value is pretty high.

“Shut up,” she says, but then leans over and kisses his lips. I turn to look away, not used to seeing public affection and secretly wishing I could do that too: Lean over right now and kiss Lucy.

“Back to the book, what do you need to do?” I ask, wanting to know if there’s truth in what Lucy and Junie suggest. If another part of the prophecy is in this room. In Junie.

“Okay, so everybody hold your hands out in front of you and focus on them. Then tell me if you see a color.” Junie demonstrates with her own hand.  “I mean, not you and Lucy,” she says to me. “Your auras are like super alive and charged.”

Everyone follows her lead and I watch in wonder. Is this really possible, for each of us to have an aura that means something?

“Does anyone see any color?” Junie asks, but everyone mutters a no. Timid and Hana have wandered out of their rooms and are now sitting on the floor below the couch, sleepily watching us.

“Let me try and read you then. Okay, who’s first?”

Basil jumps up and stands before Junie, offering herself.

“Let me see, the book says you need to stand against the wall and then I need to focus.” Junie squints her eyes, and breathes deeply, focusing as Basil positions herself against the wall. “Well … I see a deep red ... it’s faint though. Lukas, can you tell me what that means?” She hands me the book, not taking her eyes off of Basil.

I scan the page with a list of colors, and red is the first one listed.

“It means you’re
grounded, realistic, active, and strong-willed,”
I say reading the page. I skim the list and stop when I see the words
Rainbow Children
. My heart races, but I try and keep my cool. Last night I asserted my opinions and it pushed Lucy away. I don’t want to scare her with my declarations, or assumptions. I need her to be on board, because she wants to.

I need her to be on board because she has decided to have faith.