Unravel Me (24 page)

Then there’s Castle in the middle of it all, his hands outstretched over his head,
collecting a whirlwind of particles, debris, scattered strips of steel and broken
branches with nothing more than the coercion of his fingertips. The others have formed
a human wall around him, protecting him as he forms a cyclone of such magnitude that
even I can see he’s straining to maintain control of it.

Then

he lets go.

The soldiers are shouting, screaming, running back and ducking for cover but most
are too slow to escape the reach of so much destruction and they’re down, impaled
by shards of glass and stone and wood and broken metal but I know this defense won’t
last for long.

Someone has to tell Castle.

Someone has to tell him to go, to get out of here, that Anderson is down and that
we have 2 of our hostages and Warner in tow. He has to get our men and women back
to Omega Point before the soldiers get smart and someone throws a bomb big enough
to destroy everything. Our numbers won’t hold up for much longer and this is the perfect
opportunity for them to get safe.

I tell Adam and Kenji what I’m thinking.

“But how?” Kenji shouts above the chaos. “How can we get to him? If we run through
there we’re dead! We need some kind of distraction—”

“What?” I yell back.

“A
distraction
!” he shouts. “We need something to throw off the soldiers long enough for one of
us to grab Castle and give him the green light—we don’t have much time—”

Adam is already trying to grab me, he’s already trying to stop me, he’s already begging
me not to do what he thinks I’m going to do and I tell him it’s okay. I tell him not
to worry. I tell him to get the others to safety and promise him I’m going to be just
fine but he reaches for me, he’s pleading with his eyes and I’m so tempted to stay
here, right next to him, but I break away. I finally know what I need to do; I’m finally
ready to help; I’m finally kind of a little bit sure that maybe this time I might
be able to control it and I have to try.

So I stumble back.

I close my eyes.

I let go.

I fall to my knees and press my palm to the ground and feel the power coursing through
me, feel it curdling in my blood and mixing with the anger, the passion, the fire
inside of me and I think of every time my parents called me a monster, a horrible
terrifying mistake and I think of all the nights I sobbed myself to sleep and see
all the faces that wanted me dead and then it’s like a slide show of images reeling
through my mind, men and women and children, innocent protesters run over in the streets;
I see guns and bombs, fire and devastation, so much suffering suffering suffering
and I steel myself. I flex my fist. I pull back my arm and

I

s h a t t e r

what’s left of this earth.

I’m still here.

I open my eyes and I’m momentarily astonished, confused, half expecting to find myself
dead or brain-damaged or at the very least mangled on the ground, but this reality
refuses to vanish.

The world under my feet is rumbling, rattling, shaking and thundering to life and
my fist is still pressed into the ground and I’m afraid to let go. I’m on my knees,
looking up at both sides of this battle and I see the soldiers slowing down. I see
their eyes dart around. I see their feet slipping failing to stay standing and the
snaps, the groans, the unmistakable cracks that are now creaking through the middle
of the pavement cannot be ignored and it’s like the jaws of life are stretching their
joints, grinding their teeth, yawning themselves awake to witness our disgrace.

The ground looks around, its mouth gaping open at the injustice, the violence, the
calculated ploys for power that stop for no one and nothing and are sated only by
the blood of the weak, the screams of the unwilling. It’s as if the earth thought
to take a peek at what we’ve been doing all this time and it’s terrifying just how
disappointed it sounds.

Adam is running.

He’s dashing through a crowd still gasping for air and an explanation for the earthquake
under their feet and he tackles Castle, he pins him down, he’s shouting to the men
and the women and he ducks, he dodges a stray bullet, he pulls Castle to his feet
and our people have begun to run.

The soldiers on the opposite side are stumbling over each other and tripping into
a tangle of limbs as they try to outrun one another and I’m wondering how much longer
I have to hold on, how much longer this must go on before it’s sufficient, and Kenji
shouts, “Juliette!”

And I spin around just in time to hear him tell me to let go.

So I do.

The wind the trees the fallen leaves all slip and slide back into place with one giant
inhalation and everything stops and for a moment I can’t remember what it’s like to
live in a world that isn’t falling apart.

Kenji yanks me up by the arm and we’re running, we’re the last of our group to leave
and he’s asking me if I’m okay and I’m wondering how he’s still carrying Warner, I’m
thinking Kenji must be a hell of a lot stronger than he looks, and I’m thinking I’m
too hard on him sometimes, I’m thinking I don’t give him enough credit. I’m just beginning
to realize that he’s one of my favorite people on this planet and I’m so happy he’s
okay.

I’m so happy he’s my friend.

I cling to his hand and let him lead me toward a tank abandoned on our side of the
divide and suddenly I realize I can’t see Adam, that I don’t know where he’s gone
and I’m frantic, I’m screaming his name until I feel his arms around my waist, his
words in my ear, and we’re still diving for cover as the final shots sound in the
distance.

We clamber into the tank.

We close the doors.

We disappear.

Warner’s head is on my lap.

His face is smooth and calm and peaceful in a way I’ve never seen it and I almost
reach out to stroke his hair before I remember exactly how awkward this actually is.

Murderer on my lap

Murderer on my lap

Murderer on my lap

I look to my right.

Warner’s legs are resting on Adam’s knees and he looks just as uncomfortable as I
am.

“Hang tight, guys,” Kenji says, still driving the tank toward Omega Point. “I know
this is about a million different kinds of weird, but I didn’t exactly have enough
time to think of a better plan.”

He glances at the
2
3 of us but no one says a word until

“I’m so happy you guys are okay.” I say it like those 9 syllables have been sitting
inside of me for too long, like they’ve been kicked out, evicted from my mouth, and
only then do I realize exactly how worried I was that the 3 of us wouldn’t make it
back alive. “I’m so, so happy you’re okay.”

Deep, solemn, steady breathing all around.

“How are you feeling?” Adam asks me. “Your arm—you’re all right?”

“Yeah.” I flex my wrist and try not to wince. “I’m okay. These gloves and this metal
thing actually helped, I think.” I wiggle my fingers. Examine my gloves. “Nothing
is broken.”

“That was pretty badass,” Kenji says to me. “You really saved us back there.”

I shake my head. “Kenji—about what happened—in the house—I’m really sorry, I—”

“Hey, how about let’s not talk about that right now.”

“What’s going on?” Adam asks, alert. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Kenji says quickly.

Adam ignores him. Looks at me. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“I just—I j-just—” I struggle to speak. “What happened—with Warner’s da—”

Kenji swears very loudly.

My mouth freezes midmovement.

My cheeks burn as I realize what I’ve said. As I remember what Adam said just before
we ran from that house. He’s suddenly pale, pressing his lips together and looking
away, out the tiny window of this tank.

“Listen …” Kenji clears his throat. “We don’t have to talk about that, okay? In fact,
I think I might rather
not
talk about that? Because that shit is just too weird for me to—”

“I don’t know how it’s even possible,” Adam whispers. He’s blinking, staring straight
ahead now, blinking and blinking and blinking and “I keep thinking I must be dreaming,”
he says, “that I’m just hallucinating this whole thing. But then”—he drops his head
in his hands, laughs a harsh laugh—“that is one face I will never forget.”

“Didn’t—didn’t you ever meet the supreme commander?” I dare to ask. “Or even see a
picture of him …? Isn’t that something you’d see in the army?”

Adam shakes his head.

Kenji speaks. “His whole kick was always being, like, invisible. He got some sick
thrill out of being this unseen power.”

“Fear of the unknown?”

“Something like that, yeah. I heard he didn’t want his pictures anywhere—didn’t make
any public speeches, either—because he thought if people could put a face on him,
it would make him vulnerable. Human. And he always got his thrills from scaring the
shit out of everyone. Being the ultimate power. The ultimate threat. Like—how can
you fight something if you can’t even see it? Can’t even find it?”

“That’s why it was such a big deal for him to be here,” I realize out loud.

“Pretty much.”

“But you thought your dad was dead,” I say to Adam. “I thought you said he was dead?”

“Just so you guys know,” Kenji interjects, “I’m still voting for the
we don’t have to talk about this
option. You know. Just so you know. Just putting that out there.”

“I thought he was,” Adam says, still not looking at me. “That’s what they told me.”

“Who did?” Kenji asks. Catches himself. Winces. “Shit. Fine.
Fine
. I’m curious.”

Adam shrugs. “It’s all starting to come together now. All the things I didn’t understand.
How messed up my life was with James. After my mom died, my dad was never around unless
he wanted to get drunk and beat the crap out of someone. I guess he was living a completely
different life somewhere else. That’s why he used to leave me and James alone all
the time.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Kenji says. “I mean, not the parts about your dad being
a dick, but just, like, the whole scope of it. Because if you and Warner are brothers,
and you’re eighteen, and Warner is nineteen, and Anderson has always been married
to Warner’s mom—”

“My parents were never married,” Adam says, eyes widening as he speaks the last word.

“You were the love child?” Kenji says, disgusted. “I mean—you know, no offense to
you—it’s just, I do not want to think about Anderson having some kind of passionate
love affair. That is just sick.”

Adam looks like he’s been frozen solid. “Holy shit,” he whispers.

“But I mean, why even have a love affair?” Kenji asks. “I never understood that kind
of crap. If you’re not happy, just leave. Don’t cheat. Doesn’t take a genius to figure
that shit out. I mean”—he hesitates—“I’m
assuming
it was a love affair,” Kenji says, still driving and unable to see the look on Adam’s
face. “Maybe it wasn’t a
love
affair. Maybe it was just another dude-being-a-jackass kind of th—” He catches himself,
cringes. “Shit. See, this is why I do
not
talk to people about their personal problems—”

“It was,” Adam says, barely breathing now. “I have no idea why he never married her,
but I know he loved my mom. He never gave a damn about the rest of us,” he says. “Just
her. It was always about her. Everything was about her. The few times a month he was
ever at home, I was always supposed to stay in my room. I was supposed to be very
quiet. I had to knock on my own door and get permission before I could come out, even
just to use the bathroom. And he used to get pissed whenever my mom would let me out.
He didn’t want to see me unless he had to. My mom had to sneak me my dinner just so
he wouldn’t go nuts about how she was feeding me too much and not saving anything
for herself,” he says. He shakes his head. “And he was even worse when James was born.”

Adam blinks like he’s going blind.

“And then when she died,” he says, taking a deep breath, “when she died all he ever
did was blame me for her death. He always told me it was my fault she got sick, and
it was my fault she died. That I needed too much, that she didn’t eat enough, that
she got weak because she was too busy taking care of us, giving food to us, giving
… everything to us. To me and James.” His eyebrows pull together. “And I believed
him for so long. I figured that was why he left all the time. I thought it was some
kind of punishment. I thought I deserved it.”

I’m too horrified to speak.

“And then he just … I mean he was never around when I was growing up,” Adam says,
“and he was always an asshole. But after she died he just … lost his mind. He used
to come by just to get piss-drunk. He used to force me to stand in front of him so
he could throw his empty bottles at me. And if I flinched—if I
flinched
—”

He swallows, hard.

“That’s all he ever did,” Adam says, his voice quieter now. “He would come over. Get
drunk. Beat the shit out of me. I was fourteen when he stopped coming back.” Adam
stares at his hands, palms up. “He sent some money every month for us to survive on
and then—” A pause. “Two years later I got a letter from our brand-new government
telling me my father was dead. I figured he probably got wasted again and did something
stupid. Got hit by a car. Fell into the ocean. Whatever. It didn’t matter. I was happy
he was dead, but I had to drop out of school. I enlisted because the money was gone
and I had to take care of James and I knew I wouldn’t find another job.”

Adam shakes his head. “He left us with nothing, not a single penny, not even a piece
of meat to live off of, and now I’m sitting here, in this tank, running from a global
war my own
father
has helped orchestrate”—he laughs a hard, hollow laugh—“and the one other worthless
person on this planet is lying unconscious in my lap.” Adam is actually laughing now,
laughing hard, disbelieving, his hand caught in his hair, tugging at the roots, gripping
his skull. “And he’s my
brother.
My own flesh and blood.