Creators (Entangled Teen) Page 2

  “Enough,” he gritted out. “You will stop this second. We will go back to the community. I know Al. He’s a weak man who stands behind a gun and calls it power. Trust me when I tell you this—they’ll let us in. Now. Let’s. Go.”

  My mouth fell open, and despite how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop the tremble that ran through me.

  “Take your hands off her,” Henry snarled, next to me in only a matter of seconds.

  “I suggest you mind your business. This is a family matter,” replied my father, dragging me toward my sister. Louisa’s hands moved to her ears and she began to cry.

  “Family?” Henry yelled after him. “Last time I checked, you’ve been dead. Usually dead means, you know, not walking around and attempting to manipulate your daughters through fear and ridiculous displays of testosterone. Now, if she wants to stay here and bury her friend, that’s what she’ll do.”

  “Maybe we should all just calm down and talk about this,” Lockwood suggested. “Take a deep breath. Everyone is an adult here.” He shot a worried glance toward my sister, who had seemed to curl in on herself, an attempt to protect herself from the only people she had left.

  I twisted out of my father’s grasp. “He’s right. We all need to settle down and talk about our next move. Sitting here and yelling—”

  I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Eric charged at my father, knocking me to the ground in the process. My side stung, sending pain up and down my body with the blood that flowed in my veins. There wasn’t a part of me the pain didn’t touch. I gasped, a layer of sweat covering my forehead. When Henry helped me to my knees, I watched as my father pulled Eric off him. He lay panting on his back as my father got up on his feet.

  “I understand you lost someone, boy, and that comes with a pain that can make you crazy, hateful. But if you touch me again, I promise it will be the last thing you do,” he warned, towering over a fuming Eric.

  My father had always protected our family, and I knew he carried a strength in him that I had never wanted to see tested, but the man before me, once caring and loving, now seemed so cold and distant.

  Seeing the look on my face, his shoulders slumped. “He attacked me,” he said. He had never seemed so tired or so old as he did in that moment.

  “I know. He’s in pain. He’s really a good—”

  The slump of his shoulders vanished as he pulled his back straight, stalking over to me. He took my chin in his hand. “In case you haven’t noticed, everyone’s in pain,” he replied, speaking to me just like he did in the days of our piano lessons—soft but authoritative. Strong but understanding. “That doesn’t mean they stop. They won’t ever stop. The council will keep coming and coming until they kill every last one of us,” he continued, raising his voice so every last one of us could hear. “So, we move. We keep going. We don’t stop and bury the dead because soon there’ll be too many dead to bury. The war isn’t coming, Tess, it’s here. And there’s no time to waste. No place to hide. We fight or we die.”

  Chapter 3

  “You have to sleep sometime, Tess.”

  I looked over at Louisa. She slept so peacefully on the ground next to me that I could almost pretend her life wasn’t ruined. If I covered her with enough blankets, I could even hide the fact that she was carrying a baby that would most likely kill her. She was too young to have gone in for inspection, so there was no way of knowing if she was like Emma or me. “I could but I won’t,” I whispered to Lockwood.

  “I’ll watch after her,” he replied, plopping down on the ground next to me.

  “You will, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. We had been walking for two days, mostly silently. Our group was trudging back to the community I prayed would let us in. When Henry had dared to ask my father if we could return to whatever makeshift, backwoods camp he came from, he dismissed the idea with a grunt, continuing to stalk through the woods. Without the community, we had no home. No place to go. And looking at Louisa, it had become clear that we needed a home desperately.

  “Not… I didn’t mean like that. I just m-meant.” Lockwood began to stammer, his skin flushing from his cheeks all the way down his neck. He had hovered over Louisa protectively during our trek, offering his arm to help her when the terrain got to be too rough. She never took it, but he never stopped offering, either.

  I nudged Lockwood’s shoulder with mine. “I know what you meant. Calm down. Though I have to admit, it’s nice getting the advantage in our little war of wits. Especially now that I know you have a weakness for blondes,” I teased, surprised that I could even joke at all. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand everything that happened only days before; it was just that I couldn’t focus on it. Not yet. I had to get Louisa to safety first. That was all that mattered, all my little heart could handle.

  Because if I thought of the other things…

  I would become her again—the girl I fought so hard to bury inside me.

  Lockwood opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “I appreciate the offer. I just can’t. I know I should sleep, but not yet.”

  “I understand,” he said quietly. We sat like that, both lost in our own thoughts, staring up at the night stars through the canopy of trees. Insignificant in the grand scheme of things. The war would rage but the stars would always remain. At least until mankind brought the whole world down with them.

  “What a fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into,” he finally said.

  “You mean what a fine mess I’ve gotten everyone into,” I amended, ripping at the grass that poked up between my fingers.

  “Enough,” Lockwood said. “You didn’t make the world like this, and you didn’t put a gun to anyone’s head to bring them to these woods. I’m here because I wanted to be. Same with McNair. He came because he felt like it was the right thing to do. And your father was right. About fighting. It’s time to fight,” he finished, his voice carrying a passion I had never heard from him before. His eyes moved to my sleeping sister, and I understood.

  Lockwood always had liked a lost cause.

  …

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Louisa whispered in my ear. The first words she had said to me since the exchange with George. She shifted and squirmed on her feet, darting her eyes among the men who walked on all sides of us.

  “We need to take a break,” I called out to my father, who was ahead of us, lifting my hand to block the sun that seemed to announce to the world where we were. Even in the woods with my father, I was starting to feel vulnerable. He had been right. This place wasn’t safe. I felt it in my gut.

  “No. Not now. We keep moving,” he answered, refusing to even break his stride long enough to look back.

  A small noise escaped Louisa’s lips. I stopped and looked back to see her mouth pulled tight. “I wasn’t asking for permission. I was telling you we need to stop. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

  My father stopped dead in his tracks. I braced for his anger as he slowly turned around to face me. But as his eyes moved from me to my sister, I saw the slight slump of his shoulders once more. “Make it quick,” he muttered, turning his back on us. He couldn’t keep his eyes on Louisa long.

  “Come on,” I told her, pulling her gently by the hand away from the group.

  “Want me to come with you?” Henry asked, keeping pace with me as we moved deeper into the woods.

  “We’ll be fine. We only need a few minutes. Girl stuff,” I said.

  Henry put his hands in the air and slowly backed away. “That’s all you needed to say.”

  Once we were safely away from the group, I turned around so my sister could have some privacy. My little sister. There were many things I needed to ask her. How far along was she? How did she feel? And then the darker questions, the questions that might cause me to kill a man—the questions that would turn me into Henry.

  Was she forced?

  “I’m done. We can go back now,” Louisa said quietly. It wasn’t the tone I was used to hearing from her mouth. We had sp
ent the greater part of our lives fighting with each other, jockeying for the attention of our sister who was more a mother to us than the woman who gave birth to us. While I’d tried rescuing her from Templeton, the fact remained that I had abandoned her. There were many discussions we needed to have, but any tension that existed between us seemed temporarily gone. I turned around and reached again for her. She didn’t hesitate in placing her small hand into mine.

  I knew she didn’t do it from affection; she was frightened out of her wits. She trembled when someone stepped on a branch or when the wind rustled through the trees.

  Gone was her sauciness. Her fiery nature. She was a girl destroyed.

  Almost.

  I hoped I still had time to save her.

  “Come on, they’re waiting for us,” I said, tugging on her hand.

  Two steps…and all hell broke loose.

  Two shots blasted into the air from a gun. Before I could reach my hand to cover her mouth, Louisa screamed. It ripped from her as if it carried her very soul with it. I jerked my sister around by the hand and ran, pulling her along with me. I pushed my legs as fast as they would go, but she flailed and stumbled behind me.

  I yanked harder against her. I didn’t know where we were running to; I just knew it was time to run. These woods had already taught me that. The leaves behind us crumpled and called out to us, alerting us that someone, or something, was close behind.

  Louisa begged for me to stop, but I shut out her pleas. If we stopped, we would die. She hadn’t lived inside the woods, hadn’t been outside of council protection, so she didn’t know what was possible.

  An image blurred past me on the left as a man bolted ahead of us, placing himself directly in my path. I attempted to skid to a stop before running right into him. Falling forward with my sister in tow, I collided with him, and the man caught me in his arms before Louisa and I fell to the ground. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to battle for my sister. When I managed to look up, I came face-to-face with Robert.

  “What is it? I heard shots,” I panted, my legs trembling so hard that my entire body shook.

  Robert cupped my face with his hands. “It was your father. He shot into the air. Everything’s okay. You’re safe.”

  I sucked in air through my nose, gulping it down, forcing it in. “What do you mean it was my father? Why would he do that? Is he crazy?”

  Before Robert could answer, Louisa slumped to the floor. She was no longer screaming or crying—she just sat on the ground staring forward, her eyes wide. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly as she rocked back and forth.

  I crouched down so my eyes were level with hers. “Shhh, Robert said we’re safe. Breathe. Just breathe.” I tucked a hair behind her ear.

  But she didn’t reply. Didn’t blink. Her shaking hands moved to her stomach, and she rocked with greater force. Her head began to rock slowly back and forth, and her lips moved, whispering something furiously over and over. I leaned closer so I could hear what she was saying. “I believe in the council. The council will protect me. Protect me from my enemies. Protect me from myself.”

  The words my mother had taught her years ago.

  Louisa was still a believer.

  “What the hell was he thinking?” I growled, looking up at Robert.

  “I think it’s better if you see it,” he replied. He reached down and scooped his sister-in-law into his arms.

  As I followed behind Robert, Louisa wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head against his shoulder.

  “You both okay?” Henry asked, jogging toward us.

  “No, we are—”

  “Everyone and everything is just fine,” Robert cut me off. He looked back at me, warning that now was not the time. He then proceeded to move a little quicker, creating space between Henry and my sister and me.

  As soon as Louisa was out of earshot, I turned to Henry. “No, we are not okay. What was he thinking? Did he feel like he needed to remind us who was in charge? He nearly scared Louisa to death.”

  Henry shook his head and clenched his jaw. “He did it to call them.”

  “Call who?” I asked, looking at his face, seeing it pulled tight with worry.

  “Them. His people.” Henry pointed ahead of me.

  I followed his finger to find a ragtag group assembled behind my father. They were dressed in clothes not much better than those worn by the Isolationists in the community, but they sure were dirtier. It had been a long time since these people had been out of the woods. Men and women of various ages, guns held tightly, looking to my father as he spoke. Their bodies held straight with attention like they were an army listening to a commander.

  It just so happened their commander was my father.

  This was the resistance.

  Lockwood walked over to us. “Your father is getting creepier by the day,” he whispered.

  “I’m assuming the package is still secure?” my father asked a man not much younger than himself. He was a beanpole of a guy, standing a good foot above my father. But the way he bowed his head and slumped his shoulders, not in some show of disrespect but more as a reaction to my father’s show of dominance, it became clear who was in charge.

  “Yes, sir. Safe and secure,” he answered.

  “Good. Take yourself and two others and make sure it stays that way. Without it, we have nothing.”

  Beanpole Guy nodded and walked back to the group. As he left my father’s side, a female soldier moved forward. I walked closer to where my father stood, afraid that I would miss something, some clue or signal as to why he was back. Why he was acting so cold.

  “Pardon me, sir, but I was wondering if you knew what happened to Harvey? Was she successful in her mission?” asked the young woman. She couldn’t have been much older than me. Her muscles were tight, and her black hair was pulled back in a controlled ponytail. Her arms were crossed behind her back as her eyes stared straight ahead. Where the other man had seemed to cower before my father, this woman was holding her own.

  “She was not successful. Unfortunately, she didn’t stop the target from the rendezvous,” my father replied with a sigh.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t stop the target from the rendezvous. He was talking about the girl he had sent to stop me from meeting George.

  “You mean the lunatic who took joy in sticking a knife in your daughter’s abdomen? You don’t mean you sent her, do you?” Henry charged.

  “I never told her to hurt—” my father began.

  “Don’t you dare say a word against her! You didn’t know her,” my father’s soldier yelled, her stance of control showing that it had cracks.

  “She was a brave girl who died for the greater good. We’re all proud of her,” my father said as he placed a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

  The girl nodded, her chin trembling with emotion. My father tapped her under the chin. “Head up, Stephanie. Harvey wouldn’t have wanted you to waste your tears. She’d want you to fight on.”

  Stephanie swallowed and nodded again. “Yes, sir. What’s next?”

  “We will be escorting these people back to their camp. Once there, we’ll gather supplies and men. Then, phase two.”

  “What’s phase two?” I asked.

  “Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” my father replied, reaching forward and giving my shoulder a small squeeze.

  “I can be useful,” I argued, not liking the idea of being brushed off. I had survived a great many things. I was a fighter.

  “Of course you are, Tessie. But right now I need you to look after your sister.”

  My father turned to face our group. Robert held tightly onto Louisa. Lockwood and Henry flanked my side. Eric, sullen and quiet the days after his fight with my father, stood in the back, glaring at the army assembled before us. Our army was smaller, less organized, but it felt like an army all the same. Despite sharing natural status with my father’s people, I suddenly felt like we weren’t fighting on the same side.

  “Se
t up camp here. We move out in the morning. Our goal is to reach the community by nightfall tomorrow,” my father clipped. Loud. Clear. No room for argument.

  I blew air out from between my clenched teeth, spun on my heels, and headed deeper into the woods. I needed a moment.

  “Tess, wait up. Please. Slow down,” Robert called from behind me.

  “Not now. I just need to walk. I need a moment to myself,” I snapped without hesitating. I sped up my movements, hoping to disappear in the sunset, melting into the crimson red.

  “Come on, slow down,” he begged, jogging to catch up with me. I knew he was doing so out of courtesy only; it would take nothing for him to stop me. He was a chosen one.

  “Why is he acting like this?” I asked, my voice hitching. “He hasn’t even attempted to explain where he’s been all these years. He hasn’t once asked Louisa if she was all right. How can he look at her and not care?”

  “After your father rescued me from the center, I spent some time with a resistance sect much like the one that follows him now. These people, they become obsessed with their mission. It’s their life. It’s not born out of selfishness—or at least they don’t see it that way. It comes from a place that longs to make the world better. They’re desperate to fix it.”

  “Better? At what cost?” I asked. “Leaving your family? Abandoning them to make it through this messed-up world on their own?” I fought back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes.

  “But you left, too, remember?”

  I gulped. “I had to. They were going to kill me. I planned to go back for Louisa.”

  “Maybe he had to make the same choice? And it’s not the reunion you imagined, but he did come back for you.”

  I shook my head, crossing my arms against my chest. “The way he talks to them, worries about them…”

  “Of course. He’s their leader. They’re his family.”

  “But…he already had a family,” I said.

  Chapter 4

  I never could tell if the screams were real. In the seconds after my eyes popped open, my mind struggled to answer the question: nightmare or real life? It was getting harder and harder to distinguish between the two. But then one scream followed after another. And another. They got louder, more frantic. Shrill cries into the night sky that seemed to stretch before us like some black ocean with no end. And as my sister scrambled to her knees from where she slept beside me, I knew with dread coursing through my veins: this was real life.