The Line (20 page)

“An interesting cross, I’d say.” She could still hear the smile in his voice.

Indigo stayed near as long as he could, but it was so dangerous. Elizabeth was afraid every day that he would be discovered. She knew she couldn’t hide Malgam’s presence from prying townsfolk much longer, and she couldn’t just abandon her father. Finally, she told Indigo to take Malgam and go back to his people. He didn’t want to go, but Elizabeth convinced him it was the best thing. She told him that as soon as she could, she would use the keycard he had given her and come to him.

 

 

UNTIL PATHIK APPEARED Elizabeth had almost succeeded in not thinking about that anymore. About whether she would have had the courage to actually take that step—Cross the Line—if her option to do it hadn’t disappeared with the keycard. That was the thing she couldn’t tell Jonathan earlier, when he had come to right his wrong. That she didn’t know, would
never
know, if she would have actually used the keycard after her father died.

Indigo and Malgam had been Away for weeks by then. In those dull days before her father’s death, the love that she had found with Indigo, the notion that everything could be different, began to feel like a dream. Even her baby seemed unreal, faded to a translucent image in her mind.

She was not yet nineteen years old. The idea of leaving everything that was familiar to her, of going to a strange place she had been raised to fear, became overwhelming. When, the morning after her father’s death, she went to her desk and found the keycard missing, Elizabeth was flooded with so many awful feelings. But the worst feeling, and the one she would never be able to let herself forget, was
relief
.

She knew that was why Indigo never returned for her. He knew things like that. He had always known, in some strange way, exactly what she was feeling, sometimes before she knew herself. He would have come back for her at any cost, she knew it, if only she had wanted him too with her whole heart. But he would have felt her doubt, he would have known how uncertain she was, poor stupid young woman. She knew how much that must have hurt him.

Elizabeth knew she would have to tell Jonathan the truth of it soon; to let him go on bearing the burden he did would be wrong. Tonight though, she had enough to do trying to stay in her seat. For the fears of the past didn’t trouble her anymore; she had a son somewhere, a grandson. Indigo—her love—could still be alive. She wondered if he could ever forgive her her cowardice. She might have had a whole new life waiting for her somewhere across that Line if she hadn’t been too frightened to Cross so many years ago. She wasn’t afraid now. She wanted to stand up and walk outside, leave everything she knew and begin again. It had been all she could do to stay with Vivian while Rachel Crossed.

But the disappearance of an old woman couldn’t be explained away by saying she ran off like a teenager. If Elizabeth had Crossed with Rachel, she would have jeopardized Rachel’s safety, perhaps Indigo’s as well. She could not act. She could only sit and wait, playing absently with the ring on her necklace, and try not to stare too longingly out the window toward Away.

P
ATHIK CAME THROUGH some underbrush right behind her. She hadn’t heard him at all until he spoke. He peered at her as though he were trying to see past some sort of mirage, as though he knew she couldn’t be real.

“What are you doing here?”

“Change of plans.” Rachel felt oddly shy, now that she was standing right next to him. He was taller than she remembered, and he moved with an ease she hadn’t noticed before. She explained as quickly as she could what had happened.

“This Peter,” said Pathik. “How do you know he won’t just be waiting for you if you do get back?”

“
Can
I get back?”

Pathik studied her and then looked away. “I don’t know.”

“What about a Crossing Storm? Can’t I just wait for one of them and go back that way?”

“A Crossing Storm?” Pathik regarded her with interest. “You know about those?”

“Wouldn’t that work? I mean, in case there are no more keys.”

Pathik shook his head. “That’s not how it happens.”

Rachel felt something—hope, perhaps—fade within her. She wanted to ask what Pathik meant, but she wasn’t sure she would be able to speak without crying.

“We’d better go.” Pathik nodded at the bags on the forest floor behind her. “Can you handle the smaller one?”

“I handled both of them all the way here.” Suddenly Rachel felt like hitting him.
Could she handle the smaller one.
Like she was some sort of weakling. It was his fault she was stuck out here, his fault she might never get back home. She walked to the bags and slung her mom’s over her shoulder. When she picked up Ms. Moore’s duffel bag, Pathik walked over, shaking his head, and took it from her.

“I was just asking a question.” He shrugged and then turned and started walking. “It’s not too far,” he said over his shoulder.

Rachel stood there a moment, narrowing her eyes at his back. Then she hitched the bag higher on her shoulder and followed him.

They walked quickly, so quickly that Rachel had some difficulty keeping up. She didn’t say anything. She wasn’t about to let
him
know. But she kept falling behind, until finally he noticed. He stopped and waited until she reached him.

“We do have to go pretty fast if we want to get there before dark.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t far.”

“
I
don’t think it is. But I’m usually by myself when I make the trip, so it goes a little faster.”

Rachel sputtered. She wished she could think of some smart thing to say to him, but her brain seemed to be working at about half speed. She settled for action, and walked past him without a word. She heard him make a derisive sound behind her and whirled around.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing.” Pathik held both hands up as though he were surrendering. “Look, I just want us back at camp before dark.”

“Well, let’s go then.” Rachel was furious. Somewhere inside she was just afraid, but the fury
felt
better. She turned and started walking again.

For a short time they walked in silence. Rachel couldn’t see Pathik, but she assumed he was still behind her. Her assumption was confirmed shortly.

“Rachel.”

She heard him, but she ignored him.

“Rachel, stop.”

Rachel sighed and stopped. She refused to turn around though. She heard Pathik laugh softly.

“Look, we need to make time, but we also need to be somewhat quiet.”

She faced him. “I
am
being quiet!”

Pathik held a finger up to his lips. “Seriously. Quiet. You don’t really want to attract a lot of attention out here if you can help it.”

Rachel didn’t like the sound of that. “Are there sheep-cats?” She was whispering now.

Pathik gave her an odd look. He started to reply, but then just shook his head. “Look, follow me, and try to step where I step. We’ll be at camp soon, but we need to be careful right now. Kinec and Jab will have a fire going, so we’ll be safer then.” Pathik moved ahead of her and began to walk again.

“Who are Kinec and Jab?” Rachel tried to focus on placing her feet wherever Pathik had just stepped. She almost fell a couple of times.

“They came with me on the trek.”

“Trek?”

Pathik stopped. Rachel ran into him; she had been looking at the ground.

Pathik turned slowly to face her. He was clenching his jaw; Rachel could see the muscle just below his cheekbone jumping. It made her feel strangely triumphant.

“Rachel.”

“Yes, Pathik?” Rachel used her sweetest tone.

“Let’s just go. As
quietly
as we can. Okay?”

Rachel glared. “After you,” she said.

V
IVIAN LOCKED THE guesthouse door behind Peter. After answering the intercom buzz to assure Ms. Moore that all was well, she fell onto the couch, exhausted. Peter had said he would be in touch. She dreaded what that might mean, but she was so filled with the emptiness in the room that theories about what sort of trouble Peter might actually represent were beyond her. She wondered where Rachel was right now. Was she with the boy, Pathik? Was she safe with him? Was she warm enough?

She looked around the room at all the things that reminded her of Rachel. The afghan, which Rachel used to snuggle under when she was sick with a cold. The book of short stories they had started reading together—it seemed like months ago—with a slip of paper marking where they had left off. Her shoes—oh! Vivian had forgotten to pack Rachel’s newest pair of shoes. She was surprised to feel tears threaten again. She had cried so much today she didn’t think there were any tears left.

She couldn’t quite believe that Rachel was gone. That she might never tuck a stray tendril behind one of those sweet ears again, never roll her eyes at the latest net book Rachel was reading. It seemed to her that at any moment Rachel would emerge from the bedroom and ask if she wanted to read a story.

She got up and walked over to the bedroom door. The room was in disarray from the frantic packing she had done before Rachel Crossed. The beds were unmade, and clothes that had been rejected as impractical were strewn everywhere.

Vivian crossed to the dresser, drawn by a digim of Rachel. In it, Rachel was holding her newest tray of crosses, smiling at Vivian. Her hair was falling in her eyes, she had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and she looked absolutely beautiful. Vivian stroked the surface of the digim, her mouth crumpled into a grimace of pain. Rachel. Away.

Just like Daniel, but Vivian tried not to think about that. Daniel was probably dead. Rachel was alive. Vivian had to hold on to that and believe that someday she would see her daughter again. Somehow it would happen. If she could have at that moment, Vivian would have Crossed the Line without hesitation. She would run into that unknown territory without a second thought, run after Rachel, keep running until she held the girl in her arms.

But there was Peter to think of, Peter and the danger he posed to Rachel. If Vivian disappeared, he would put it all together somehow, figure out that she and Rachel had Crossed. He would get it out of Jonathan, or perhaps even Ms. Moore, though Vivian thought that might be difficult. Peter had a key. He might send people after them, especially if he thought Rachel had the maps. She worried about that—because Rachel
did
have them.

Peter must want the maps to trade for Jolie’s freedom. Vivian wished now she hadn’t told him that Rachel unknowingly took them when she ran away; at the time she couldn’t think of another reason why she wouldn’t be able to hand them over when he showed up at The Property. When the EOs had shown up right behind him, she knew she was right to send them with Rachel. It would have been a great trade for him: her and the maps in return for Jolie’s freedom. And if she were rotting in some jail, or dead, what about Rachel? What if she managed to Cross back? Who would be waiting?

Besides, Daniel would have protected those maps with his life. Vivian knew she had to do the same thing. Rachel might be able to get them to someone Away who could use them, someone who could make a difference.

Vivian walked back out to the living room and fell upon the couch again. She tugged the afghan out from between the seat cushions and wrapped herself in it. She was so tired, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep until her body had absolutely nothing left to fight with.

She reached for the volume of short stories, hoping to find some peace in doing something she had so recently done with Rachel. She flipped the book open to the marker. There was handwriting on the scrap of paper, and as she removed it from the pages of the book she realized it was a note—from Rachel. She could tell it had been hurriedly written—Rachel’s normally neat cursive was a bit scrawled.

Vivian clutched the note to her heart, rocking softly, filled with a simple gratitude at this keepsake—a gift from her daughter, a sign that all was well between them. She wept. Minutes later slumber took her, wrapped in her afghan, holding Rachel’s farewell.

W
HEN THEY ARRIVED at the camp, Pathik introduced Rachel to Kinec and Jab. Kinec had a friendly look about him, and chubby cheeks that didn’t fit with Rachel’s idea of surviving in the wilderness. Jab was wiry, with hair as white as sugar. They were both about Pathik’s age, though Jab looked younger because he was so small. Neither one was as handsome as Pathik.

Rachel had decided he
was
handsome during their hike to the camp. Though the way he kept telling her to speak more quietly or to look where she was going was annoying. By the time they finally got there, she was beginning to think his looks were his only good attribute.

Kinec smiled and said hello, but Jab just nodded. He kept looking at Rachel like she was to blame for something. She decided to ignore him and followed Pathik to the little campfire. He dropped the duffel bag near it. “You can set up your bedroll here for tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow we’ll start back to base camp.”

Rachel was opening the duffel bag to see what she could use to make a bed when she felt a twinge in her temple. It felt hot and sharp, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She dug around in the bag and found the thermal blankets Ms. Moore had packed, still in their shrink-wrap packages. There were some freeze-dried food packets too. Rachel was trying to remember what else she and Ms. Moore had packed that might be useful, when the pain stabbed at her again, sharper this time. She pressed against her temple with her hand and she must have made a sound, because Pathik was by her side in an instant, asking her what was wrong. Before she could say anything, he turned to Jab.