Vanished (21 page)

              I’m about to argue but then I remember that Logan almost got shot today and Madison, Zayn and I came close to being blown to bits. Maybe she’s right; maybe we’ve had enough excitement for one day.

              We clean off the table and wash the dishes by hand.  Collin and Zayn take advantage of the recreation room and start playing a game of pool.  Madison and Jasmine find some clothes for us in the dressers because we left our luggage up in the cars and no one wants to go all the back up through the creepy levels to get them. 

              I excuse myself and slip into the women’s locker room.  There’s a row of shower heads on one wall.  I turn on the water and it sputters for a minute, spitting out brown water that eventually runs clear.

Once again I surprise myself by thinking of Logan instead of everything else going on around us as I step into the hot water. No matter how hard I try to picture it, for some reason I can’t see Logan holding someone at gun point.  He may not be like other boys, he may sleep with a gun now, he’s even shot someone before, but he’s not violent.  I’ve never even really seen him angry except when he found out Madison was pregnant but even that was a short-fuse. 

I turn my back to the shower rinsing the dirt out of my hair. 

In fact, Logan only takes calculated risks, he’s calm and composed under stress, and he analyzes and over-analyzes every angle of something before he makes a decision, sometimes in a matter of seconds.  If Logan held a gun to a man’s head, it wouldn’t have been a rash decision; it would have been premeditated.

              Then I realize something.  Logan doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t trust any of us. That’s why he didn’t tell us when he made the decision to turn a search for Celia, and whatever she knew, into a deadly interrogation. 

He feels responsible for ensuring our safety even if that means not sharing everything he’s planning.  He’s a natural born hero but in this new world he has to learn to relay on the rest of us, to trust us to help him instead of focusing on protecting us. 
A natural born hero…

An anxious feeling starts to nag at me. 

Logan feels responsible for
all of us
. Not just the people sitting in the next room, not just our little family of six, but every human left on planet earth. Logan wants to save us all.

My stomach clenches as the hot water starts to run cold. In a daze, I turn the water off. I feel my legs go weak and slide down the shower wall covering up with my dirty t-shirt. His recent preoccupation, his reference to “those poor souls” aboveground, and the heat in his eyes when he was talking about Celia being so ready and willing to sacrifice all those lives…he’s planning something and, whatever it is, he doesn’t intend to ask for our help.

Chapter Nineteen

Trin

              When I wake up, he isn’t in the other bed. I sit up and wrap my arms around my legs.  There’s a note lying on the table beside my bed but I don’t want to read it. Not yet, not with this carved, hollow feeling inside me, like I’m waking up with less of myself than I went to sleep with.

I try on three pairs of green slacks before finding some that actually fits.  The white t-shirts ironed and folded crisp in the second drawer are starting to yellow and smell a little like moths but I don’t care.  I slide the shirt over my head and pull my hair up into a ponytail.  My belt is hanging over the chair and my holster and gun are still attached to it.  I put them on and grab a pair of lemon colored socks out of the top drawer.  I take a couple of minutes to lace up the supple brown leather boots I came here wearing. 

              I don’t want to leave this room because when I do I will have to face the fact that Logan is gone.  I’ll have to face the group and try to explain why he left without telling any of us.  If I’m honest with myself, I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this.  I knew it in the silence that hung in our room as we drifted off to sleep last night.

He’s gone.

              There’s a knock and I look up and see Madison staring at me through the narrow window in the door.  I wave her in.

She looks at the envelope and the type-written pages in my hand, glances around the room, and looks at Logan’s bed, then back at me.  It’s strange seeing Madison this way; no make-up, her platinum blond hair hanging in a braid over her shoulder, green pants and a white t-shirt matching mine.  “I came to wake you up. Where’s Logan?”

“He’s not out there?” I say, feeling surreal, like I’m watching myself talk to her.

She shakes her head, “Not unless he’s on another level.  The boy’s just came out of the locker-room and were asking about him. You don’t know where he is?”

I wonder how much I should tell her.  She cocks her head, and her blue eyes fill with worry.  Then I know.  I should tell her everything.  Everything, because that’s what I would want her to do for me, I’d want her to be honest because I’m strong enough to take it and because I’m going to need her help. “He left. I think he left the bunker, left St. Raphael’s in the middle of the night.”

Her eyes widen and then instantly they narrow at me, “You
think
or you
know
?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

I feel a twinge of annoyance.  Does she always have to be so bitchy and condescending?  If I asked Logan that same question, he would shrug and say ‘she’s Maddie,’ his way of saying you get the bad with the good.  Since Logan’s not here to remind me, I tell myself
she’s Maddie
and take a deep breath…

“I
know
as much as you do,” I say and start to fold the letter up. “I
think
Logan went to help Celia find those guys.”

I’m not looking at her but I hear the fear in her voice, “He didn’t tell you he was leaving?”

“No.” But I knew. I knew and I didn’t do anything to stop him.

“What’s that?” Madison says pointing to the note on the table. She must recognize his writing on the front.  It says “Trin.”

“He left a note.”

“What’s it say?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet.”

              She looks like she wants to slap me across the face but instead she walks across the room, takes the note off the table and hands it to me. I take a deep breath and unfold the note-book paper. 

            
 
Trin,

My dad may have been an asshole but he gave me a gift and if I don’t use it to do the right thing, I’ll never forgive myself. I hope you understand this isn’t about
her
.
Do not
leave the bunker. Wait for me.

                                                                                                                Loga
n

             
Do not leave the bunker
.  It’s what I should have said to him last night, not that he would have listened but maybe I could have at least convinced him to take me with him.  Madison looks expectantly at me, so I hand her the note. 

              She reads it then looks up at me, “
Her?
” She says, “He means…”

              “Celia.”

              “Ah,” she sets the note down, “so when do we leave?”

              I look down at the envelope with the abduction testimony I’m still holding in my hands.  The truth will have to wait. “Ten minutes.”

              “I’ll tell the others,” she says and hands me back the note. She turns to leave then stops before she walks out the door, “what gift is he talking about?”

              I wonder if it will work on her as well as it works when Logan uses it on me so I shrug and say, “He’s Logan.”

              She looks confused and then her face breaks into a smile.  She turns and leaves the room and I fall back on the bed, exhausted, and it’s not even noon. 

__#__

              “Where’s Jasmine?” I ask them as I emerge from the dorm room and find Zayn, Collin and Madison eating oatmeal with some kind of berries for breakfast. 

              “She isn’t feeling well,” Zayn says and I can tell by the rings under his eyes that he didn’t get much sleep last night, “She’s claustrophobic.”

              I sit down beside them, grab a bowl, and scoop some oatmeal out of the pot.  It tastes stale but I’m only interested in the energy it will give me to do what I have to do today, so I scoop large spoonfuls in my mouth, barely chewing.

              “Jasmine could use some fresh air.”

              I raise my eyes and see Collin glaring at Madison, “How can you say that, Maddie? You know how dangerous this is going to be, right?”

              Madison swallows and her eyes grow wide, “I…not anymore dangerous then everything we’ve been thru over the last few weeks. How is this any different?”

              Collin sighs and his jaw flexes, Collin who is never serious is dead serious right now, “If we’re going to go after him, let’s not pretend like it’s going to be easy. That’s just plain stupid.”
He sounds like Logan
, I think, “I was in Celia’s camp, I saw those guys she runs with and the eleven that got away, I’m willing to be they’re ten times worse. They’re armed and they have the advantage because Celia doesn’t know where they are.  One way or another, people are going to die. Those bullets they shot at us the other day were real. This isn’t a game. This isn’t target practice on your balcony. Out there, if you miss, you don’t come home.”

              Madison’s mouth is hanging open. She blinks and looks like she’s about to say something but Collin holds up his hand, “That being said,” He adds, “You and Jasmine are staying here.”

              “Um…what” says Madison, “There is no way…” her face turns red, “That’s Logan out there...”

              Zayn interrupts, “Before you go off on Collin, listen to
me
Maddie.”

She looks at him and her eyes are glacial pools.  I don’t know how Zayn doesn’t look away.  I would.  “Maddie, I’m not taking Jaz up there, not with everything going on and she’s too freaked out to stay down here by herself. You’re her best-friend. She needs you.”

              I watch Madison to see how she will respond expecting her to start screaming any second.  Something happens that surprises me though.  She reaches up and cups Zayn face, her creamy white skin against his olive complexion and she actually smiles, with tenderness not the malice that most of her sweet smiles hold.  I’m mesmerized by her transformation. “She’s lucky to have you,” she says almost too softly for me to hear.  Realizing I’m leaning in, I sit back and shove a spoonful of cereal in my mouth.  Zayn looks like he just saw a ghost.

Maddie turns to Collin, on her other side, “And this baby and I are lucky to have you,” she tells him.  Coming from anyone else I know the words would sound corny to me but from Madison there’s something magical about them, like she is imparting the most special gift she can give just through this one rare act of willingness to see reason.  I almost want to hug her myself.

Collin looks like someone just told him he won the lottery, his mountain-dew colored eyes are large and round and I smile because it’s a funny expression.

Suddenly the spell is broken and I hear Collin’s warning echoing in my brain. 
One way or another, people are going to die.

Bending over my bowl and polishing off the last few bites of cereal I start to empathize with Logan’s willingness to lie to us so he wouldn’t put us in harm’s way.  I realize suddenly how much I like these people, how each has grown on me and that I don’t want to lose any of them. A large lump starts to form in my throat and it’s not from the oatmeal.

Zayn goes to tell Jaz the plan and Collin puts his arm around Madison’s waist and scoots her down the bench until she’s practically in his lap. Their affection hurts to look at, because it reminds me of the hollow part inside me, so I stare down at my cereal bowl.

Logan.

Chapter Twenty

Logan

              The sun is rising as we climb into the front seat of the military truck.  The people loaded in the back, concealed by canvas, are the best Celia had to offer and hand selected by me.  She looks over at me before she starts the engine, “This isn’t your fight.  Are you sure you want to do this?”

              “Will you reconsider?”
Can you look past your hate long enough to see what you’re getting these people into?

              She glares at me, “You don’t have to do this
for me
.”

              She’s trying to justify this in her mind, trying to fit me into the pretty picture she has of leading these people to their deaths for retribution.  I see a glimmer of doubt in her eyes before they turn to steel.  I just stare at her. I should probably explain that I’m
not
doing this for her but I just shake my head and face forward. She can’t see past her hate so answering would be a waste of words.