Authors: The Host
“I think there's been too much talk,” Jared growled. “Jeb left this up to me, and I've made my decision.”
Jeb cleared his throat noisily. Jared spun halfway around to look at him again.
“What?” he demanded. “You made the rule, Jeb.”
“Well, now, that's true.”
Jared turned back toward me. “Ian, get out of my way.”
“Well, well, hold on a sec,” Jeb went on. “If you recall, the rule was that whoever the body belonged to got to make the decision.”
A vein in Jared's forehead pulsed visibly. “And?”
“Seems to me like there's someone here with a claim just as strong as yours. Mebbe stronger.” Jared stared straight ahead, processing this. After a slow moment, understanding furrowed his brow. He looked down at the boy still hanging on his arm.
All the joy had drained from Jamie's face, leaving it pale and horrorstruck.
“You can't, Jared,” he choked. “You wouldn't. Wanda's good. She's my friend! And Mel! What about Mel? You can't kill Mel! Please! You have to –” He broke off, his expression agonized.
I closed my eyes again, trying to block the picture of the suffering boy from my mind. It was already almost impossible not to go to him. I locked my muscles in place, promising myself that it wouldn't help him if I moved now.
“So,” Jeb said, his tone far too conversational for the moment, “you can see that Jamie's not in agreement. I figure he's got as much say as you do.”
There was no answer for so long that I had to open my eyes again.
Jared was staring at Jamie's anguished, fearful face with his own kind of horror.
“How could you let this happen, Jeb?” he whispered.
“There
is
a need for some talk,” Jeb answered. “Why don't you take a breather first, though?
Maybe you'll feel more up to conversation after a bath.”
Jared glared balefully at the old man, his eyes full of the shock and pain of the betrayed. I had only human comparisons for such a look. Caesar and Brutus, Jesus and Judas.
The unbearable tension lasted through another long minute, and then Jared shook Jamie's fingers off his arm.
“Kyle,” Jared barked, turning and stalking out of the room.
Kyle gave his brother a parting grimace and followed.
The other dirty members of the expedition went after them silently, Paige tucked securely under Andy's arm.
Most of the other humans, all those who had hung their heads in shame for admitting me into their society, shuffled out behind them. Only Jamie, Jeb, and Ian beside me, and Trudy, Geoffrey, Heath, Lily, Wes, and Walter stayed.
No one spoke until the echoes of their footsteps faded away into silence.
“Whew!” Ian breathed. “That was close. Nice thinking, Jeb.”
“Inspiration in desperation. But we're not out of the woods yet,” Jeb answered.
“Don't I know it! You didn't leave the gun anywhere obvious, did you?”
“Nope. I figured this might be comin' on soon.”
“That's something, at least.”
Jamie was trembling, alone in the space left by the exodus. Surrounded by those I had to count as friends, I felt able to walk to his side. He threw his arms around my waist, and I patted his back with shaky hands.
“It's okay,” I lied in a whisper. “It's okay.” I knew even a fool would hear the false note in my voice, and Jamie was not a fool.
“He won't hurt you,” Jamie said thickly, struggling against the tears I could see in his eyes. “I won't let him.”
“Shh,” I murmured.
I was appalled–I could feel that my face was fixed in lines of horror. Jared was right–how
could
Jeb have let this happen? If they'd killed me the first day here, before Jamie had ever seen me…
Or that first week, while Jared kept me isolated from everyone, before Jamie and I had become friends… Or if I had just kept my mouth shut about Melanie… It was too late for all that. My arms tightened around the child.
Melanie was just as aghast.
My poor baby.
I
told
you it was a bad idea to tell him everything,
I reminded her.
What will it do to him now, when we die?
It's going to be terrible. He'll be traumatized and scarred and devastated –
Melanie interrupted me.
Enough. I know, I know. But what can we
do?
Not die, I suppose.
Melanie and I thought about the likelihood of our survival and felt despair.
Ian thumped Jamie on the back–I could feel the motion reverberate through both our bodies.
“Don't agonize over it, kid,” he said. “You're not in this alone.”
“They're just shocked, that's all.” I recognized Trudy's alto voice behind me. “Once we get a chance to explain, they'll see reason.”
“See reason? Kyle?” someone hissed almost unintelligibly.
“We knew this was coming,” Jeb muttered. “Just got to weather it. Storms pass.”
“Maybe you ought to find that gun,” Lily suggested calmly. “Tonight might be a long one.
Wanda can stay with Heidi and me –”
“I think it might be better to keep her somewhere else,” Ian disagreed. “Maybe in the southern tunnels? I'll keep an eye on her. Jeb, wanna lend me a hand?”
“They wouldn't look for her with me.” Walter's offer was just a whisper.
Wes spoke over the last of Walter's words. “I'll tag along with you, Ian. There're six of them.”
“No,” I finally managed to choke out. “No. That's not right. You shouldn't fight with each other. You all belong here. You belong together. Not fighting, not because of me.” I pulled Jamie's arms from around my waist, holding his wrists when he tried to stop me.
“I just need a minute to myself,” I told him, ignoring all the stares I could feel on my face. “I need to be alone.” I turned my head to find Jeb. “And you should have a chance to discuss this without me listening. It's not fair–having to discuss strategy in front of the enemy.”
“Now, don't be like that,” Jeb said.
“Let me have some time to think, Jeb.”
I stepped away from Jamie, dropping his hands. A hand fell on my shoulder, and I cringed.
It was just Ian. “It's not a good idea for you to be wandering around by yourself.” I leaned toward him and tried to pitch my voice so low that Jamie wouldn't hear me clearly.
“Why prolong the inevitable? Will it get easier or harder for him?” I thought I knew the answer to my last question. I ducked under Ian's hand and broke into a run, sprinting for the exit.
“Wanda!” Jamie called after me.
Someone quickly shushed him. There were no footsteps behind me. They must have seen the wisdom of letting me go.
The hall was dark and deserted. If I was lucky, I'd be able to cut around the edge of the big garden plaza in the dark with no one the wiser.
In all my time here, the one thing I'd never found was the way out. It seemed as if I'd been down every tunnel time and again, and I'd never seen an opening I hadn't eventually explored in search of one thing or another. I thought about it now as I crept through the deepest shadowed corners of the big cave. Where could the exit be? And I thought about this: if I could figure that puzzle out, would I be able to leave?
I couldn't think of anything worth leaving for–certainly not the desert waiting outside, but also not the Seeker, not the Healer, not my Comforter, not my life before, which had left such a shallow impression on me. Everything that really mattered was with me here. Jamie. Though he would kill me, Jared. I couldn't imagine walking away from either of them.
And Jeb. Ian. I had friends now. Doc, Trudy, Lily, Wes, Walter, Heath. Strange humans who could overlook what I was and see something they didn't have to kill. Maybe it was just curiosity, but regardless of that, they were willing to side with me against the rest of their tight-knit family of survivors. I shook my head in wonder as I traced the rough rock with my hands.
I could hear others in the cavern, on the far side from me. I didn't pause; they could not see me here, and I'd just found the crevice I was looking for.
After all, there was really only one place for me to go. Even if I could somehow have guessed the way to escape, I would still have gone this way. I crept into the blackest darkness imaginable and hurried along my way.
Ifelt my way back to my prison hole.
It had been weeks and weeks since I'd been down this particular corridor; I hadn't been back since the morning after Jared had left and Jeb had set me free. It seemed to me that while I lived and Jared was in the caves, this must be where I belonged.
There was no dim light to greet me now. I was fairly sure I was in the last leg–the turns and twists were still vaguely familiar. I let my left hand drag against the wall as low as I could reach, feeling for the opening as I crept forward. I wasn't decided on crawling back
inside
the cramped hole, but at least it would give me a reference point, letting me know that I was where I meant to be.
As it happened, I didn't have the option of inhabiting my cell again.
In the same moment that my fingers brushed the rough edge at the top of the hole, my foot hit an obstacle and I stumbled, falling to my knees. I threw my hands out to catch myself, and they landed with a crunch and a crackle, breaking through something that wasn't rock and didn't belong here.
The sound startled me; the unexpected object frightened me. Perhaps I'd made a wrong turn and wasn't anywhere near my hole. Perhaps I was in someone's living space. I ran through the memory of my recent journey in my head, wondering how I could have gotten so turned about.
Meanwhile, I listened for some reaction to my crashing fall, holding absolutely still in the darkness.
There was nothing–no reaction, no sound. It was only dark and stuffy and humid, as it always was, and so silent that I knew I must be alone.
Carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible, I took stock of my surroundings.
My hands were stuck in something. I pulled them free, tracing the contours of what felt like a cardboard box–a cardboard box with a sheet of thin, crackly plastic on top that my hands had fallen through. I felt around inside the box and found a layer of more crackly plastic–small rectangles that made a lot of noise when I handled them. I retreated quickly, afraid of drawing attention to myself.
I remembered that I'd thought I'd found the top of the hole. I searched to my left and found more stacks of cardboard squares on that side. I tried to find the top of the stack and had to stand in order to do so–it was as high as my head. I searched until I found the wall, and then the hole, exactly where I'd thought it was. I tried to climb in to ascertain if it really was the same place–one second on that bowed floor and I would know it for certain–but I could not get any farther than the opening. It, too, was crammed full of boxes.
Stymied, I explored with my hands, moving back out into the hall. I found I could go no deeper down the passageway; it was entirely filled with the mysterious cardboard squares.
As I hunted along the floor, trying to understand, I found something different from the crowd of boxes. It was rough fabric, like burlap, a sack full of something heavy that shifted with a quiet hissing sound when I nudged it. I kneaded the sack with my hands, less alarmed by the low hiss than by the plastic crackle–it seemed unlikely that this sound would alert anyone to my presence.
Suddenly, it all came clear. It was the smell that did it. As I played with the sand-like material inside the bag, I got an unexpected whiff of a familiar scent. It took me back to my bare kitchen in San Diego, to the low cupboard on the left side of the sink. In my head I could see so clearly the bag of uncooked rice, the plastic measuring cup I used to dole it out, the rows of canned food behind it…
Once I realized that I was touching a bag of rice, I understood. I
was
in the right place after all.
Hadn't Jeb said they used this place for storage? And hadn't Jared just returned from a long raid?
Now everything the raiders had stolen in the weeks they'd been gone was dumped in this out-of-the-way place until it could be used.
Many thoughts ran through my head at once.
First, I realized that I was surrounded by food. Not just rough bread and weak onion soup, but
food.
Somewhere in this stack, there could be peanut butter. Chocolate chip cookies. Potato chips.
Cheetos.
Even as I imagined finding these things, tasting them again, being full for the first time since I'd left civilization, I felt guilty for thinking of it. Jared hadn't risked his life and spent weeks hiding and stealing to feed
me.
This food was for others.
I also worried that perhaps this wasn't the entire haul. What if they had more boxes to stow?
Would Jared and Kyle be the ones to bring them? It didn't take any imagination at all to picture the scene that would result if they found me here.
But wasn't that why I was here? Wasn't that exactly what I'd needed to be alone to think about?
I slouched against the wall. The rice bag made a decent pillow. I closed my eyes–unnecessary in the inky darkness–and settled in for a consultation.
Okay, Mel. What now?
I was glad to find that she was still awake and alert. Opposition brought out her strength. It was only when things were going well that she drifted away.
Priorities,
she decided.
What's most important to us? Staying alive? Or Jamie?
She knew the answer.
Jamie,
I affirmed, sighing out loud. The sound of my breath whispered back from the black walls.
Agreed. We could probably last awhile if we let Jeb and Ian protect us. Will that help him?
Maybe. Would he be more hurt if we just gave up? Or if we let this drag on, only to have it end
badly, which seems inevitable?
She didn't like that. I could feel her scrambling around, searching for alternatives.
Try to escape?
I suggested.
Unlikely,
she decided.
Besides, what would we do out there? What would we tell
them?
We imagined it together–how would I explain my months of absence? I could lie, make up some alternative story, or say I didn't remember. But I thought of the Seeker's skeptical face, her bulging eyes bright with suspicion, and knew my inept attempts at subterfuge would fail.
They'd think I took over,
Melanie agreed.
Then they'd take you out and put
her
in.
I squirmed, as if a new position on the rock floor would take me further away from the idea, and shuddered. Then I followed the thought to its conclusion.
She'd tell them about this place,
and the Seekers would come.
The horror washed through us.
Right,
I continued.
So escape is out.
Right,
she whispered, emotion making her thought unstable.
So the decision is… quick or slow. Which hurts him less?
It seemed that as long as I focused on practicalities I could keep at least my side of the discussion numbly businesslike. Melanie tried to mimic my effort.
I'm not sure. On the one hand, logically, the longer the three of us are together, the harder
our… separation would be for him. Then again, if we didn't fight, if we just gave up… he
wouldn't like that. He'd feel betrayed by us.
I looked at both sides she'd presented, trying to be rational about it.
So… quick, but we have to do our best not to die?
Go down fighting,
she affirmed grimly.
Fighting. Fabulous.
I tried to imagine that–meeting violence with violence. Raising my hand to strike someone. I could form the words but not the mental picture.
You can do it,
she encouraged.
I'll help you.
Thanks, but no thanks. There has to be some other way.
I don't get you, Wanda. You've given up on your species entirely, you're ready to die for my
brother, you're in love with the man I love who is going to kill us, and yet you won't let go of
customs that are entirely impractical here.
I am who I am, Mel. I can't change that, though everything else may change. You hold on to
yourself; allow me to do the same.
But if we're going to –
She would have continued to argue with me, but we were interrupted. A scuffing sound, shoe against rock, echoed from somewhere back down the corridor.
I froze–every function of my body arrested but my heart, and even that faltered jaggedly–and listened. I didn't have long to hope that I'd just imagined the sound. Within seconds, I could hear more quiet footsteps coming this way.
Melanie kept her cool, whereas I was lost to panic.
Get on your feet,
she ordered.
Why?
You won't fight, but you can run. You have to try something–for Jamie.
I started breathing again, keeping it quiet and shallow. Slowly, I rolled forward till I was on the balls of my feet. Adrenaline coursed through my muscles, making them tingle and flex. I would be faster than most who would try to catch me, but where would I run to?
“Wanda?” someone whispered quietly. “Wanda? Are you here? It's me.” His voice broke, and I knew him.
“Jamie!” I rasped. “What are you doing? I told you I needed to be alone.” Relief was plain in his voice, which he now raised from the whisper. “Everybody is looking for you. Well, you know, Trudy and Lily and Wes–
that
everybody. Only we're not supposed to let anyone know that's what we're doing. No one is supposed to guess that you're missing. Jeb's got his gun again. Ian's with Doc. When Doc's free, he'll talk to Jared and Kyle. Everybody listens to Doc. So you don't have to hide. Everybody's busy, and you're probably tired.…” As Jamie explained, he continued forward until his fingers found my arm, and then my hand.
“I'm not really
hiding,
Jamie. I told you I had to think.”
“You could think with Jeb there, right?”
“Where do you want me to go? Back to Jared's room? This is where I'm supposed to be.”
“Not anymore.” The familiar stubborn edge entered his voice.
“Why is everyone so busy?” I asked to distract him. “What's Doc doing?” My attempt was unsuccessful; he didn't answer.
After a minute of silence, I touched his cheek. “Look, you should be with Jeb. Tell the others to stop looking for me. I'll just hang out here for a while.”
“You can't sleep here.”
“I have before.”
I felt his head shake in my hand.
“I'll go get mats and pillows, at least.”
“I don't need more than one.”
“I'm not staying with Jared while he's being such a jerk.”
I groaned internally. “Then you stay with Jeb and his snores. You belong with them, not with me.”
“I belong wherever I want to be.”
The threat of Kyle finding me here was heavy on my mind. But that argument would only make Jamie feel responsible for protecting me.
“Fine, but you have to get Jeb's permission.”
“Later. I'm not going to bug Jeb tonight.”
“What is Jeb doing?”
Jamie didn't answer. It was only at that point I realized he had deliberately not answered my question the first time. There was something he didn't want to tell me. Maybe the others were busy trying to find me, too. Maybe Jared's homecoming had returned them to their original opinion about me. It had seemed that way in the kitchen, when they'd hung their heads and eyed me with furtive guilt.
“What's going on, Jamie?” I pressed.
“I'm not supposed to tell you,” he muttered. “And I'm not going to.” His arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and his face pressed against my shoulder. “Everything is going to be all right,” he promised me, his voice thick.
I patted his back and ran my fingers through his tangled mane. “Okay,” I said, agreeing to accept his silence. After all, I had my secrets, too, didn't I? “Don't be upset, Jamie. Whatever it is, it will all work out for the best. You're going to be fine.” As I said the words, I willed them to be true.
“I don't know what to hope for,” he whispered.
As I stared into the dark at nothing in particular, trying to understand what he wouldn't say, a faint glow caught my eye at the far end of the hallway–dim but conspicuous in the black cave.
“Shhh,” I breathed. “Someone is coming. Quick, hide behind the boxes.” Jamie's head snapped up, toward the yellow light that was getting brighter by the second. I listened for the accompanying footsteps but heard nothing.
“I'm not going to hide,” he breathed. “Get behind me, Wanda.”
“No!”
“Jamie!” Jared shouted. “I know you're back here!”
My legs felt hollow, numb. Did it have to be Jared? It would be so much easier for Jamie if Kyle were the one to kill me.
“Go away!” Jamie shouted back.
The yellow light sped up and turned into a circle on the far wall.
Jared stalked around the corner, the flashlight in his hand sweeping back and forth across the rock floor. He was clean again, wearing a faded red shirt I recognized–it had hung in the room where I'd lived for weeks and so was a familiar sight. His face was also familiar–it wore exactly the same expression it had since the first moment I'd shown up here.
The beam of the flashlight hit my face and blinded me; I knew the light reflected brilliantly off the silver behind my eyes, because I felt Jamie jump–just a little start, and then he set himself more firmly than before.
“Get away from it!” Jared roared.
“Shut up!” Jamie yelled back. “You don't know her! Leave her alone!” He clung to me while I tried to unlock his hands.
Jared came on like a charging bull. He grabbed the back of Jamie's shirt with one hand and yanked him away from me. He held on to his handful of fabric, shaking the boy while he yelled.
“You're being an idiot! Can't you see how it's using you?”
Instinctively, I shoved myself into the tight space between them. As I'd intended, my advance made him drop Jamie. I didn't want or need what else happened–the way his familiar smell assaulted my senses, the way the contours of his chest felt under my hands.
“Leave Jamie alone,” I said, wishing for once that I could be more like Melanie wanted me to be–that my hands could be hard now, that my voice could be strong.