Year One (Chronicles of The One #1)(30)

He fell silent for nearly thirty seconds, but Arlys said nothing, gave him the time, the space.

“Where I live,” he continued, “the building, people were dying or running or going out to join the animals in the streets. I thought: There’s nothing left but the dark now. But I could hear my husband’s voice in my head saying: Don’t you do it. Don’t you give up.”

“And you didn’t.”

“Nearly did. I went out one day, started to. Maybe I’d get some food, maybe I’d just keep walking. I didn’t know. And there was a boy sitting on the stairs. He lived in the building. I didn’t know his name—I’m not going to say his name.”

“We’ll call him John.”

“All right. John was sitting there crying. Both his parents and his brother, all dead. He couldn’t stay in his apartment. You can imagine why.”

“Yes.”

“He thought I meant to harm him at first. He didn’t run. He was going to stand and fight, that scared, grieving little boy. He’d fight, and what was I doing but wallowing? So I sat down on the steps, and we talked awhile. I took his mama first, and we were going to take her to where I’d laid my husband. When we went out with her, somebody came up. I’m not going to say a name,” he added, but Arlys saw his gaze cut to Fred. “She asked if she could help us. She knew others who could help. So we got that help and we laid John’s family to rest.

“And he came to live with me. So we get up in the morning, and we have some breakfast. We do some reading, and some math and such. It’s important a boy still learns. I’m teaching him to fight, in case he needs to. We play games because play’s as important as learning. We get up and do what we have to do, and that’s how we get through it. When he’s ready—it’s only been a couple weeks—I’m going to get him out of the city. Get him out and find someplace clean. And we’ll get up in the morning there, and do what needs to be done. We’ll build a life, because death can’t be all there is.”

He looked at Arlys now, right into her. “This won’t be the end of it,” he said, repeating her words. “We won’t let it be the end of it.”

“Thank you, Ben. I hope your story reaches people who need to hear it. I needed to hear it. This is Arlys Reid, grateful for everyone who’s doing what needs to be done.”

She switched off the recorder. “Don’t wait until he’s ready. Get John out as soon as you can.”

“His name is Noah.” T.J.’s eyes flicked between the two women before fixing on her. “You know something you’re not telling.”

“I know it’s going to get worse here. I know if I had a child depending on me, I’d get him out. Fred said there are people who can help you with that. Pack and ask them to help you. You should go with them,” she said to Fred.

“I’ll stick with you. You know who to contact, T.J. Honest, if Arlys says you should go, you should go. For Noah.”

“I’ll go talk to him. He knows it’s coming. I’m going to miss you, Fred.”

He moved over, wrapped arms around her, towering over her.

“Miss you back, and Noah. But, you know, if it’s meant, we’ll find each other again.”

“I want it to be meant.” He held out a hand to Arlys. “I thought it would make me angry to tell my story. It didn’t. Watch out for yourself.”

“I intend to. Good luck, T.J.”

He picked up the bag he’d brought in to gather supplies, took one last look, and slipped out through the boards.

“It’s going to be a good segment. A powerful one. I think he was here because he needed to tell his story, and he needed you to tell him to get Noah and go.”

“Lucky all around.”

“Not lucky. Meant. I have something to tell you—off the record.”

“Okay, let’s grab that soup, and you can tell me on the way back to the station. I want to put this together.”

“I really better show you, and here, where it’s safe. Don’t freak, okay?”

“Why would I…”

Arlys trailed off, her jaw dropping, when Fred wiggled her fingers and sparkling lights danced around her.

“How did you—”

“I wanted you to be able to see better.” Now she held her hands out to the sides.

Before Arlys’s dazzled eyes, iridescent wings flowed out of Fred’s back, shimmering right through the jacket she wore. And she rose a foot from the floor, circling in the air with the wings waving.

“What is this? What is this?”

“I got a little freaked at first—it just sort of happened one day. Then it was like, this is so beyond all coolness. It turns out I’m a faerie!”

“A what—a faerie? That’s crazy. Would you stop doing that!”

Fluid as water, Fred lowered to the ground, but the wings remained. “It’s so much fun, but okay. You can’t report on this, Arlys—I mean not about me. They call us the Uncanny—I can’t figure out if I like that or not, but it’s growing on me. I can tell by the way you do the stories, you’re like: Oh, yeah, right. But hey.” Fred lifted up again. “Oh, yeah, right!”

“It’s not possible.”