False Hearts (False Hearts #1)(92)

“Probably, but it shouldn’t be too bad. Mana-ma loves them, and maybe she won’t find out. Maybe they’ll think we went off to die in the woods and then animals ate us.”

“That’s gross, Tila.”

“What? I’d rather be eaten by a fox or a bear then buried in the ground and then eaten by worms. You’re going to be eaten either way.”

I was trying to distract her, though I wasn’t doing a very good job. I thought Mom and Dad would get in big trouble if Mana-ma found out they helped us escape. I didn’t think their lives would be in danger or anything, though. I didn’t know the full story of Mia and her lost lover back then. If I had, I might have been too scared to risk Mom and Dad by running away.

Even to save our lives.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Taema says. “I … can’t help feeling it’s wrong. That out there we’ll lose ourselves.”

I pressed my cheek against hers, then reached around and stroked her hair. “If we stay, we die. I don’t want you to die.”

Her breath hitched. “I don’t want you to die, either. Maybe it’s better to be damned by Impure things than be dead.”

I shook my head, pushing down my anger that, despite everything, she could still believe in the tenets of the Hearth.

The ship came down, all silver and chrome and the blue fire of its engines. It was so different from anything in the Hearth. So smooth and sleek and futuristic. I remember thinking how strange it would be to be surrounded by a world where everything looked so flawless like that.

The hatch opened and the worker drones went about their business like ants, crawling out of the belly of the beast, lugging crates to be set onto the grass. Once the ship left, the people from the Hearth would slink down the hill and take their essential supplies back to the buildings, trying to have as little contact with the Impure as possible.

“So f*cking hypocritical,” I said out loud.

“What is?”

“All that bullshit about the Impure. Yet they still take regular orders of things they can’t make. Never really thought about it before. The Hearth has plenty of Impure stuff that we all use. Light bulbs. Some of the cleaning stuff. Metalwork. We can’t make a lot of that here. It’s all over, but we pretend we’re all Pure and untouched by the outside world. So stupid.”

A pause, and then: “Yeah. It is.” It was the first time she had really agreed with me out loud. Usually when I ranted about the evils of the Hearth she stayed pretty quiet, tacitly agreeing but not really saying anything out loud that could be considered anti-Hearth. It had always annoyed me. Now, she sounded so sad that I felt guilty for all my ranting. I also felt justified.

“It’s almost time,” I whispered, wrapping my arms about her. She rested her chin on my shoulder.

“Everything will be different now,” she whispered against my neck.

“It’ll be better.”

“Maybe.” She pulled away, and I could see the dark circles under her eyes, the yellow undertone to her skin, how thin she’d grown. I looked exactly the same. We felt especially weak that day. The excitement of freedom was overworking our already weakened heart.

“Taema?” I murmured, shaking her shoulder. She slumped, and I fell to the ground with her. I clutched her to me, taking deep breaths, forcing myself to stay calm, because I couldn’t stress the heart any further. Her arms were slack against mine. I wrapped my own arms around her and rocked us like we were children, resting my face against her slack skin.

“Stay with me, Taema,” I said over and over, careless of who might hear us above. I could feel her inhaling and exhaling against me and tears ran down my face. If she died, I’d be glad that I’d be following her a few minutes later. It wouldn’t be fair if this was the end, just as we were about to escape.

I looked up into Mana-ma’s face.

She squatted over us, her dark robes billowing.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

My mind spun, but there was no good excuse I could give—of course there wasn’t. I decided to say nothing, and glared at her.

She looked at us, taking in Taema’s head lolling against my shoulder. I could tell what she was thinking: she’d already lost us. She knew that during our last Confession, when I f*cked with her and freaked her out.

“You might as well let us go,” I said. “You can say we died in the forest.”

“But what if I let you go and you find a way to survive?”

“I guess that’s a risk you take. We’re not doing so hot right now, anyway.” I sucked in a breath. “Do you want us to die?”

“I want you to follow God’s plan. If you weren’t meant to die, your heart wouldn’t be failing.”

“Maybe God wants us to leave your godforsaken Hearth and go to the city.”

She leaned down, close to me. There was no one around.

Her ageless face gazed down at us. Would she raise her arm in benediction, or would the hand hold a knife?

“It didn’t have to be like this,” she said. “It all could have been different.”

“Well, this is how it is. So what are you going to do?” I glared up at her. “The power’s in your hands, I guess. You going to kill us here? Do nothing for a few minutes? That’s all it’ll take.” Already my vision was wobbling, going dim. My chest hurt, and my fingers were numb. I wanted her to go away and leave me to die in peace.