Breaking Point (Article 5 #2)(66)

“Get me out of here,” I said quietly.

Chase gently pulled me back into the bedroom, gathering the bag of food beside the window.

“Stop!” I heard Beth yell.

In a snap I’d detached Chase’s grip and was running back toward the front of the house. One step into the entryway and I ran smack into Sean.

“Ember!” His breath hitched, but he recomposed quickly. “We’ve got a problem.”

Chase had succeeded in grabbing my arm and jerked me to his side. “What is it?”

“I told him not to come back here!” Beth said.

“You talked to a soldier you didn’t know?” I shrieked.

“I recognized his friend from your arrest,” she said indignantly. “I thought they were with you.”

And there, from the shadows, stepped Tucker Morris.

I couldn’t think of a word to say. Not one word.

“I’m sorry,” Tucker croaked. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Chase asked in a low, dangerous voice. His weapon was drawn, but Tucker didn’t seem to notice it. Distantly I registered the sound of Beth crying.

“We got hit.” Tucker’s voice was strained. “Cara and me. We got hit outside Greeneville on the way to see her cousin.” He scratched his neck nervously. “Before we left they said something about your house. That a driver came here. It was right before he kicked me out.” He pointed at Sean, then gulped down a deep breath. “And then … then everything fell apart. I went back to the printing plant, but everyone was gone. I thought maybe you’d try to come here. I didn’t know where else to go!”

I hadn’t even considered that my mother’s name had been spoken while Tucker and Cara were still in the building. But it had. I’d gotten lazy. I’d put Beth in even more danger.

My stomach turned to water. “Billy?” I asked. “Billy was gone?”

“They were all gone!” Tucker responded. “Lights off. Empty.”

“Oh no.” I reached for the wall for support.

“Where is Cara?” demanded Sean.

“She’s dead, man. She’s dead. They hit her.”

It took a second for Tucker’s words to sink in. Cara was dead. Billy was missing, probably captured. A silent scream filled my body.

“Turn around,” Chase said. Tucker complied. Chase patted down the back of his shirt and his pockets, but found no weapons. “Did you turn us in? Is that what you did?”

“No! I went with Cara. That’s all.” Tucker’s face twisted.

“Get out of this house!” I shouted suddenly.

“Keep it quiet!” warned Stephen in the background.

“You can’t be here! Have you brought soldiers here? Are they following you?”

“No!” Tucker shook his head. “No, I got rid of them in Tennessee. But I didn’t know where to go. I don’t know the other check station … things. I don’t know!”

His fingers twined before him, as if he were praying, and for the first time since I’d known him he looked genuinely panicked.

“How did you get here?” asked Chase. His pacing was getting faster. I began to feel my heart keep time with the cadence of his voice.

“A car … I took a car. Her cousin’s car.”

“Where is it now?”

“I parked it at a dump a few neighborhoods over. Hid it, you know? So no one would look twice. And then … then I started walking. I remembered this place from the overhaul but couldn’t get the street right. I didn’t know where else to go. Man, she’s dead.”

“Shut up,” said Chase coldly. “It’s not your first time.”

My spine zipped straight up my back.

“We have to leave,” I said. “Right now. Right this second. He can’t be in this house.”

“We’ll get the other car,” said Sean.

“No.” I wouldn’t leave here knowing that Tucker could come back for Beth.

“No,” Chase agreed. “He’s coming with us. He doesn’t leave my sight until we clear the area.”

Tucker nodded gratefully.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. I felt sick. First an apology and now a thank-you? It felt all wrong.

“Beth, get out of here,” I said. “Go home. Now.”

That was all there was. I pushed her out the back door and she ran, and I hoped she would never, never come back to this place. Stephen watched on blankly, but I had nothing to offer him.

“Good-bye,” I said quietly, watching the spot in the black hole of night where she’d vanished. I hadn’t even told her to her face. I wasn’t going to say how much I loved her and how the memories of her kept me sane. It was just the same as it had been with my mother, only now, I was the one disappearing.

Good-bye, I said. To the little girl with the crooked eyebrows who cut her hair with her mom’s scissors. To the smell of vanilla candles after curfew. To the drooping plants on the kitchen windowsill, the shared hairbrush on the bathroom sink, and all the goodnights before bed.

Good-bye, Mom.

We passed through Chase’s yard, running in silence on numb feet. My head felt muddled. Cloudy. A sense of disillusionment filled the night air. I knew without a doubt that I would never come home again.