The Fandom(94)

The monotonous tone of the flatline hits my ears.

And I know that he has gone.





Since arriving in this world, I’ve experienced more physical pain than I thought possible. I’ve been kicked, shoved, pulled, strung up, not to mention the indescribable ache of Baba’s palms resting on my temples. But it feels so insignificant when compared to the pain of losing Nate.

Whereas physical pain brought my body into focus – filled me up, made me swell, turned me into something bigger – loss does the exact opposite. It scrunches me into a ball, folds me in half, scoops me out until I’m not sure I exist – the world around me becomes a carbon copy. Or maybe I’m the copy. I can’t tell any more.

I don’t know how long I sit in the back of the Humvee, lurching from side to side. Eyes parched, brain numb, just clutching at Nate’s lifeless body. The flatline still rings in my head, and I pray and pray and pray that this is just a dream, just a horrible, twisted dream. That when I wake up, Nate will be smiling and laughing and telling me some random shit in his Sheldon Cooper voice.

I barely notice when we draw to a halt outside the church.

Matthew holds my eye. ‘Dead?’

Such a small word, yet so hard, so final.

I nod.

‘I’m sorry.’ He pauses. ‘The sky’s empty.’

I know he means of Gem helicopters, but I can’t help thinking of the stars.

‘There’s no time to lick our wounds,’ Saskia says. ‘We need to torch the church and then escape over the river.’

No-man’s-land. They’ve had the same idea as us – hardly surprising.

Matthew jumps from the Humvee. ‘Wait here.’

‘But I need to get Katie,’ I say.

He looks at Nate and his eyes well with tears. ‘Quickly though.’ He lifts Nate from my lap. ‘We can leave him in the church. He’ll get a true hero’s funeral.’

I nod, too numb to argue. I need to focus on the living, on Katie and Ash. I’m not sure I even care about completing the canon any more. Home isn’t home without Nate. I slide from the Humvee, my legs only just carrying my weight, soaked in blood and weakened from fatigue.

I follow Matthew to the church, Ash’s arm wrapped firmly around my waist. I can’t help but watch Nate’s feet undulating to the rhythm of Matthew’s stride. Up, down, up, down. I remember him much younger, soaring back and forth on a swing, kicking up the spray at the seaside, dancing in my bedroom to Abba. That black hole returns, sucking me empty.

The church looks as if a swarm of locusts has passed through it. Everything, bar a series of boxes, has gone. Nearly all of the rebels were arrested at the Coliseum, and the night lights have long since been extinguished; only a few remaining candles offer pouches of light. I see Thorn, leaning against the altar, his head battered and covered in blood, his hands holding a small black box.

Saskia sees him and stops. ‘Thorn, you’re alive.’

He looks up, his eyepatch gone, the full force of his beauty uncovered. His gaze falls on me, red capillaries spider-webbing across the whites of his eyes. ‘You did this, Little Flower.’

His words barely touch me.

Matthew lays Nate down on the pew at the front of the church. The one where he slept only hours ago. I bend over his lifeless body, brushing the hair from his face, kissing his cheek. It still feels a little warm. I pull the green blanket over his legs, telling myself he’ll wake up soon.

‘How did the Gems know about the raid?’ Thorn says.

‘Leave it, Thorn,’ Saskia says softly. She hands me a piece of moist cloth, and I begin to wipe the dirt and blood from Nate’s face. He looks so young again, his face no longer capable of holding any pain. A sob lodges in my throat. Ash rests a tender hand on my shoulder, and without thinking, I plant a kiss on his knuckles.

‘The raid, Little Flower. How did they know about the raid?’ Thorn persists.

But it’s like he’s talking behind glass. I don’t care if he thinks I’m a traitor. What could he possibly do to hurt me more than this? Tenderly, I arrange Nate’s arms so they cross his heart. I lean in close. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. ‘I’m so sorry, Jonathan.’ I hear myself begin to cry, and I bury my head in his narrow chest, willing him to comfort me.

I sense Thorn standing behind me. ‘You betrayed us, and now your brother is dead. It is a fitting punishment, I think.’

I turn my head and glare at him. ‘You never did deserve to be his hero. You can go to hell.’

‘First you’ve got to kill me.’

All the fury, all the injustice, bursts inside me. I look at his perfect Gem face and I suddenly get this overwhelming desire to hurt him, to kill him. I run at him, kicking and spitting. ‘I hate you,’ I scream, ‘I hate you.’ I scream it to all the Gems, to the universe which holds us captive and stole my little brother.

Thorn lifts me from the ground and carries me from the church. I thrash and twist, but it’s no use. Ash tries to help, but Thorn bats him away like a fly. Saskia and Matthew follow, concern gripping their features.

‘No,’ I cry. ‘Let me say goodbye. Please. I just want to say goodbye.’

Thorn laughs. ‘Well, now you can say goodbye to your little friend, Katherine.’

‘No, not Katie too. You wouldn’t kill Katie.’