Three (Article 5 #3)(17)

“He knows me, don’t you, nephew?” Chase’s uncle leaned against our living room wall as if to hold it up. He probably could, too. He was big enough. “I came to your birthday party.”

Chase stood in front of the couch, where he’d been for the last fifteen minutes, since Jesse had arrived. He was still wearing the green T-shirt he’d had on when the cops had told him his parents and sister had been in an accident, two days ago. It was wrinkled now; the collar was all scrunched up.

“I was five,” he mumbled, staring at the feet that had grown two sizes since summer. “That was nine years ago.”

“Well. Time flies when you’re having fun.” Jesse flicked back his long, loose hair, and beneath it appeared the black ink tattoo of a snake, twisting up his neck.

I stared at it. “Chase’s mom said you went to jail.”

“Ember.” My mother tried to pull me back, but I jerked away and attached myself to Chase’s lanky arm. He looked down at me with a small smile, but the arm I was holding tightened against his body as I squeezed.

Jesse grinned. Grinned like I was funny or something. It made my stomach hurt. I didn’t like him at all.

My mother cleared her throat. “We’re both attached to Chase, Mr. Waite. We’d be happy to work something out so he can finish school with his friends.”

Jesse snorted. “No offense, lady, but he’s better off with family.”

*

CHASE and Jesse stared at each other, just as shocked at finding each other as I was.

“What are you doing here?” I finally blurted.

This seemed to snap Jesse out of his trance, and he gave a quick order to his team to withdraw.

His dark eyes found mine. They were similar to Chase’s in shape, but hard and cold. His hair was still long, and matted with mud and twigs, as if he’d lived out in the wilderness for years.

“I know you,” he said. “You’re the neighbor girl.”

The neighbor girl. I wished I still had the fork.

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and offered Chase a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Chase took it, and found himself smashed in Jesse’s embrace. His arms hung loosely at his side, then surrounded his uncle’s back, not quite touching him.

“My nephew!” Jesse called into the now silent night. I stood by awkwardly as Jesse pulled Chase back and laughed. “You came. You remembered.”

“Remembered?” I asked.

“I told him about this place—well, the safe house. You remember, nephew? I saw you in Chicago. I told you to come here if you got in trouble.” Jesse laughed.

I’d forgotten that was how Chase had originally learned of the safe house. He’d run into Jesse during his FBR training in Chicago. Later, Chase would try to convince me my mother was there waiting. If we’d made it there then, we might be dead now.

Chase’s front half was now covered with mud from Jesse’s clothes. Though his mouth cracked open, he had yet to say anything. For a brief moment, he met my gaze, and I was reminded of that same, weak smile he’d offered all those years ago, before Jesse had taken him away.

As if suddenly remembering, Chase fished something out of his pocket. I caught a glint of metal from the small silver ring a second before he stuffed it back inside.

“Who are you?” asked Billy, approaching from behind me.

Jesse sobered. “We were at the safe house.” He held his arms out wide. “We’re all that’s left.”

Immediately the night erupted with questions. More people came from the bushes. Men, women, even a few children. More than twenty of them.

“We were looking for you,” Chase croaked. “We followed your tracks.”

“Thought you were soldiers come to finish the job,” said Jesse. “Hence the warm welcome. Can’t see anything in this swamp.” When he grinned his teeth stood out in sharp contrast from his dirty skin.

“I told you guys,” said Billy.

“Ma?” called Jack, blood dripping down his leg as he hoisted himself to a stand. “Anyone know Sherri Sandoval?”

Billy began shoving through the crowd. “Wallace?”

While the others reunited, a man whose face was still half covered in mud approached me. The radio, or what was left of it, was cradled in his arms. He handed it to me in four separate pieces.

“Sorry,” he said. “I think some of it’s still back there in the grass.”

I looked at the shambles—the cord was severed, the microphone cover ripped off and the wires within sticking out in all directions. The transceiver box caved in at the middle, as though someone had stepped on it. I’d give it to Billy to see what he could do, but I already knew it wasn’t going to be fixed.

“Do you have a radio?” I asked the man.

He shook his head. “Everything went down with the safe house.”

The first resistance post our team was meeting was empty, Truck was missing, and Tucker was on his own. Why was it so impossible for more than one thing to go right at the same time?

I left Chase and Jesse to their reunion and turned toward the walkway. The moon reflected off the water and provided enough light to show the two figures out in the middle of the swamp. A girl with blond hair, wrapped in the arms of the boy who loved her.

Sean had finally found Rebecca.