Listen (Muted Trilogy Book 2) (17 page)

Jack nodded and clicked send. “Jill’s smart for seventeen. She’ll get the reference, and the metaphor. Good thinking. Let’s wait five minutes. If we don’t get a response, we’ll power down while we rest and try again later.”

Jemma felt some of Jack’s weariness trickling through the connection. He didn’t seem to be aware he was sending it, which meant he was even more tired than he looked. She took a few more crackers and gave him the box. He put it in his lap, eating with one hand while he browsed—if you could call it browsing, at that speed—with the other. Before the five minutes had passed, the crackers were gone.

“No response from your sister yet,” he sent, shutting down the computer. “If they’ve asked the police to help find us,” he continued, carrying the laptop into the master bedroom, “it hasn’t made the scanners yet. Nothing on the local news about any escapees, either, so it seems like so far it’s just them and whatever in-house resources they’re working with.”

“Time for at least a nap, then,” sent Jemma, grabbing a fitted sheet from the linen closet. It wasn’t cool enough to need a comforter, and she didn’t really want to split up in case someone came into the house while they rested, but as close as she and Jack were, making up a bed with the intent to slip under the covers with him just wasn’t something on her radar for the day.

When he saw what she was carrying, Jack grabbed one side of the sheet, and they made the bed quickly. Jack lay down, closed his eyes, and was asleep before Jemma could even join him. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips at how quickly he had fallen asleep, even under the circumstances.

She got comfortable on the other side of the bed, propping her hands under her head in place of a pillow. She stared at the ceiling. Her legs felt rubbery, her stomach confused. She was exhausted and knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for long. She had to assume the people who’d locked her and Jack up were searching for them, and they’d need to find a way to stay hidden while also seeking out someone who could help them with what they needed to do next.

But for now? For now, she was comfortable enough, she was with Jack, and she’d escaped.

***

The room was much dimmer when Jemma woke. She blinked as she recalled where she was, listening to make certain she hadn’t been woken up by any sudden noises, but the only sound she could hear was Jack’s even breathing.

She nudged him, trying to wake him gently. His lips moved in silent protest, so she backed up the motion with mental reinforcement. “Jack, we should get up, check for a response from Jilly, figure out what we’re doing next.”

“Mmm.” He sent enough of an affirmative with the sound that she was fairly certain he was awake, but she was still surprised when he took her hand and squeezed it. “Good nap. Everything still look safe?” He opened his eyes, brown eyes finally meeting hers.

She squeezed his hand back before getting out of the bed. “Everything’s still quiet. I’m going to check downstairs and see what else there is to eat before it gets too dark. You check the email phone thing.”

“Will do.”

She sighed at herself as she headed for the stairs. Their separation, those nights in her room, her cell, had forced her to admit, at least on some level, that she wanted things with Jack to be different. She wanted a shift in their relationship, but she just was not equipped to handle it under these circumstances, not ready to try to adjust to while dealing with everything else that was going on. She knew herself well enough to know that.

What she didn’t know, though, was whether she could either ignore her feelings or shove them to the back of her mind as thoroughly as she had other emotional issues in the past, because she refused to let them get in the way. Maybe she’d just have to figure things out as they came, just be who she was with Jack, trust that his patience would let them exist in whatever gray area was necessary in order for her to focus.

Right now, she needed to focus on the food.

She sorted the pantry quickly, moving the food that could be eaten cold, no matter how unpleasant, to one side, pushing the rest toward the back. She started a third section for things they might be able to figure out if they set up camp here and got desperate: they could soak pasta in water in the sunlight and try not to gag.

“She responded,” sent Jack when she was nearly finished with the narrow pantry. “I’m hoping it makes more sense to you and she didn’t misunderstand. Want to come up, or want me to read it to you?”

“I’ll come up,” she sent, taking a package of gummy snacks with her and wishing the owners had thought to leave something chocolate behind. Jack was sitting with his back against the headboard, and she sat next to him. She quickly found Jill’s message.

Cece? It’s been forEVER. You coming to that movie you wanted to see at 8 tonight?

Jemma read the message again, then once more before Talking to Jack. “She understood, I think. She used to call me Sissy, when we were little. ‘Cece’ sounds about the same. The movie, though, I’m not sure… What’s playing?” Jack brought up the listings, and Jemma zeroed in on one immediately. “There. Jill teased me about wanting to see that. Is it playing at 8 at the theater closest to the library? That’s where we always went.”

“It is,” Jack confirmed. “That where we’re meeting?”

“Looks like it.” Jemma glanced at the clock. “Can we make it in time? I know we have a few hours, but that’s across town.”

Jack brought up a map. “This makes things so much easier, being able to see where we are. Okay, if we cut through here, then around here,” he sent, motioning behind the subdivision and through the woods, further from the water than they’d planned, “we can get to the highway pretty quickly. I’ll check on the police and media again, but our odds are pretty good that we’re safe if we don’t take too long to catch a ride.”

“All right. I’ll let Jill know we’re coming, then?” Jack switched back to the relevant page, and Jemma typed,
If you can cover my ticket. Kinda broke.
“You check what you wanted, and anything else that might help,” she sent. “I’m going to see whether I can find a backpack or two, and we’re going to take some food and water this time, just in case.”

By the time they set out twenty minutes later, the climb much easier leaving the backyard than it had been entering it, they each had a backpack loaded with everything they’d likely need over the next few days, including food, water, blankets, a flashlight, and a laptop. With more food and rest in their systems, the weight wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and it felt solid and reassuring against Jemma’s back.

Even if it wasn’t much of one, it felt like they had a plan.

EIGHTEEN

Resources

The backpack felt as if its weight had doubled, at least, by the time they reached the road. Jack straightened, looking out at the evening traffic.

“Ready?” he sent.

Jemma looked down at herself. She was covered in dirt and mud. Her jeans had some scrapes and at least one actual tear, though it didn’t feel as if the stick that had been the culprit had broken skin. Her once-white shoes were brown, and what she could see of her skin looked the same. Another look at Jack confirmed that he appeared equally bedraggled. “Are you sure someone will give us a ride instead of just calling the police?”

“Fairly. There are a lot of trails through here, plenty of people who try to go tubing on the river and get in over their heads, sometimes literally. I figured we’d pretend to be one of them.”

Jemma nodded. “That could explain the lack of cell phones, too.”

“Right.” He grinned at her, then tilted his head toward the road. “So?”

“I guess we’ve already taken long enough to get here. The woods were rougher than I expected. Let’s do this.” Jack reached out his hand, and she took it, taking strength from their increased connection. They crossed the northbound lane first, stopping in the grassy median. Jack held up his other thumb, wearing a disarming smile, and Jemma settled for trying to look like she wasn’t about to jump out of her skin, focusing instead on the feel of his palm against hers.

Several cars flew past without slowing. This part of the highway didn’t have many businesses, but the speed limit wasn’t as high as it was further north, and Jemma was able to relax some as she noticed that most people weren’t even looking at them.

It didn’t help them find a ride, but at least they weren’t as conspicuous as she felt.

Finally, someone slowed, coming to a stop a couple yards away from them before dimming the lights. It wasn’t quite dark out yet, but Jemma appreciated the gesture, and it helped her see the driver of the red pickup. His face was covered in scruff, his hair long. He took up a large portion of his front seat, but she could tell even before he got out that he was tall as well. He walked over to them, stopping just a few feet away, and smiled almost shyly, holding up his phone. “You folks need a ride?” it asked.

Jack nodded up at him and let go of Jemma’s hand to grab the pen and pad of paper they’d put in an outside pocket of his backpack.
We were out hiking and I dropped my phone in the creek
, he wrote
. We didn’t have a backup map.

“Where’s your car?” typed the stranger. “I can take you to it.”

We were supposed to be picked up tomorrow morning, but I think we’re in a bit over our heads. Some friends are at the theater by the mall. Any chance you could take us there instead?

The man looked at them for several quiet seconds before nodding. “I’m not in a real hurry and was headed that way. I’m Tim. You are?”

Jack flipped to the next page of the notepad before answering, and Jemma continued reading over his shoulder as he wrote their middle names.
I’m Patrick, this is Evelyn.

Tim nodded again. “Toss your bags in the back and hop in.”

Jemma rubbed her shoulders after taking off her backpack, then climbed in after Jack, careful not to kick the sheathed sword resting on the floorboards. “Is this a good idea?” she sent, hesitating with her hand on the open door.

“I’m not getting any bad vibes off him,” sent Jack. “Plus, at least the sword is on our side of the truck.”

Letting Jack’s grin reassure her, Jemma closed the door and buckled her seatbelt.

The ride was quiet, the truck swayed, and the last of the sunlight faded as they drove the half hour to the theater. Jemma felt weariness setting back in within a few minutes. Jack took her hand, running his thumb along hers in a way she wouldn’t have guessed he’d done often enough for her to miss.

“It’s okay to rest.”

Jemma sent disagreement. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“You don’t have to sleep. Just relax.” She felt amusement, affection. “Plan, if that helps.”

She took a deep breath, then released it, letting her head rest against his shoulder, then started running through various scenarios and the options they had for reacting to each, getting absorbed enough that she didn’t realize where they were until they came to a stop at the theater.

“You want me to stay until you’re sure you’ve got a ride? Or you need to text someone?” Tim typed. Jack shook his head and gave a thumbs up.

Thank you
, mouthed Jemma. She got out of the truck, stopping when he typed again.

“Next time you go out in the woods, make sure you’ve got someone with you who knows what they’re doing, or at least a real map.” Jack nodded, then joined Jemma outside the truck. When they’d both retrieved their bags, he waved at Tim, who drove away.

“I forget how late it gets dark this time of year,” sent Jack. “I checked the time before we got out. We missed the start of the movie.”

“I don’t see her waiting at the ticket counter, either.” Jemma rubbed her arm. They walked closer to the counter, then checked around front, peering inside the lobby as much as they could without drawing attention. “Jill?” Jemma tried to send. Her hand flew to her head, reflexively trying to stop the pain that had spiked at the failed attempt at contacting her sister. She felt Jack put his arm around her waist and led her around the corner of the building. She sat with her back against the cool concrete until she could focus on his connection again, the strength of it lessening the pain.

“What happened?” he sent finally. His arm was still around her waist, and she suspected they looked like any couple relaxing before a movie.

“I tried to reach Jill. It didn’t work.”

“I hope actually Talking to her doesn’t hurt as much as trying.” Jack sounded concerned, and Jemma leaned into him, closing her eyes.

“I think I tried too hard. I’ve gotten used to trying to send through that barrier or whatever it is.”

“Still,” sent Jack, “not that I’m complaining, but why doesn’t Talking to me bother you? What is it about our connection that makes us different?”

“We’re what they were trying to find.” Jemma frowned. “They were looking for us even before the Event. I think maybe…” She hesitated. “This is a guess, and one that makes me feel like maybe I’ve been watching and reading too much science fiction, but we’re living in a world where telepathy is real, so bear with me.” Jack sent silent encouragement. “I think maybe under the right circumstances, we’d have been able to Talk without the Event. The rest of the Talking, it isn’t natural, isn’t supposed to happen, and that’s why it’s causing problems.” Seconds passed before Jack responded.