Away From the Sun (12 page)

His eyes travel to meet mine. His stare makes it difficult to continue. I don’t want to have to tell him this.
 

“There is no one around you when it happens,” I say. “I couldn’t even tell where the shot came from.”

“You mean you didn’t see who shot me?” he asks.
 

“No,” I answer. “I didn’t recognize the area. You will be walking down a street I’ve never seen. You’ll be shot in the chest…” the words are difficult to let out.

“So, it’s a sniper,” he says.
 

“It’s too vague to understand,” I say. “Unless you have plans of traveling alone.”

“I don’t,” he says. “Especially now.” A grin forms at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to worry so much about it. We know it. We can change it.”

“It’s not that easy,” I say. “Like with Gilbert, there wasn’t much of a way I could change his future. If we would have tried to change his future, there would have been no one to distract the greyskins. We would have all died. What if it’s another situation like that?”

“Could be,” he says. “So, if it is, then there is nothing to be done. But not all situations are going to be coupled with an impossible decision. Besides, Gilbert knew his future without you having to tell him. He chose to sacrifice himself anyway.” He smiles again. “You don’t have to carry the burden, Waverly. Ultimately, the future is mine.”

“But I don’t want you to die,” I say. “You’re all I’ve got left.”

“What about your sister?” he asks.
 

I shake my head and look away. “It’s good to know that she’s alive, but she’s not a person to rely on.”

“You don’t know that,” he says. “People change. Especially over the past three years.”

“I suppose.”

We sit for a moment. The silence is awkward only for me. I’m sure Ethan is racking his brain, trying to figure out why he might be caught in the crosshairs of a sniper, all alone.
 

“I think there is a way we could investigate the future,” he finally says.

“How?”

He holds his hand out in front of me. “Take another look.”

Now that he mentions it, it is possible that if I grab hold of him, I would see a different scene. What if this time I
did
see the shooter? The only problem is that I don’t want to see Ethan on the ground again. I don’t want to see him dying.

I lean forward and reach my hand out to him, but he pulls away for just a second.
 

“You don’t have to do this if it is too hard for you,” he says.
 

I shake my head. “Seeing an unpleasant, possible future is a small price to pay if it means preventing your murder.”

He reaches his hand to mine, and the moment our fingers touch, a bright, white light flashes in front of my eyes.
 

I feel myself hovering in the air, though I don’t really exist in this realm. I am a spirit floating above a scene that has yet to happen, but is no doubt a possibility.
 

I expect to see Ethan walking down the unfamiliar street. I expect to see blood burst from his chest and a shot ringing out into the open air. But the scene in front of me only confirms that I cannot choose what future I see.
 

Ethan stands at the top of a building, perhaps it is in the Elkhorn settlement. He’s holding a woman—my future self. She is trembling as Ethan reaches for her and holds her close. There are scrapes and bruises on their faces. Their clothes are torn. It looks as though they have just survived something terrible. For a brief moment, Ethan looks out into the sunset, but Waverly’s gaze never leave’s his face. He turns back to her and returns her stare. The two of them lean in and kiss each other on the lips tenderly. Ethan pulls away from her and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.
 

“I’m not going to let you die,” she says. “I can’t.”

“If I don’t leave your side,” he says, “then the future you saw can’t happen.”

Waverly holds him tighter as they watch the sunset together.
 

The bright light flashes again and I pull away from Ethan quickly. I can feel my cheeks go red as he stares at me, waiting. When I finally look at him, I’m not sure what to say.
 

“What did you see?” he asks.
 

“I uh… It’s…” I shake my head at him. “It’s the exact same thing.” I hate lying to him, but I can’t just say that we will be together, holding each other and kissing like we were the last people in the world. “I didn’t see anything different.”

The look of disappointment on his face breaks my heart, but it’s all I can think to say. If I held back the information, he would think I was just trying to protect him.
 

The vision is strange to me. For the past week that I’ve been near Ethan, I haven’t thought of him in that way. I feel like I have grown close to him. He is the only person I can trust. But love? I have been so preoccupied and depressed by Lucas’ death, and seeing the futures of all those around me that I haven’t even had the time to comprehend a romantic feeling for someone else. Loving Ethan seems too soon. It doesn’t make any sense.
 

“What’s wrong?” he asks me. He obviously notices the look of concern on my face.

“It’s not easy to see you die,” I say. The tears in my eyes well up even more and one slips down the side of my face. I wipe it away quickly. “Ever since I’ve gained this ability…this curse, I feel like I can’t look at anyone the same way.”

“You should look at me no differently than before the vision,” he says. “How about I just stay near you, and I won’t find myself walking alone down any street where a sniper can get to me.”

I hope the feeling of shock isn’t apparent on my face. His words are almost the same as what he said in the vision.
 

“Would that be okay with you?” he asks.

“I think that’s a good idea,” I tell him.

The sound of creaking door hinges echoes off the walls of the mostly empty room, despite how slowly I try to open the door. My father, Jeremiah, stands on the other side at the window staring at the people below who are glowing under the morning sun in the chilly, wind-swept parking lot. His left hand rests comfortably in his pocket, his right holds on to a smoldering cigar.

“Ashley and I are ready to leave,” I tell him.
 

“Sure is something to see, isn’t it?” he says as I come near him.
 

I assume he is talking about the children playing tag with each other as the adults sit around making conversation, wasting the rest of their days by passing time and remaining safe. I don’t really know what there is to see about it.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I say.
 

My father turns his head to look at me. “You don’t mean that at all, do you?”

“Well, this isn’t my home.”

“You haven’t had a home in years.”

Not with you, that’s for sure.
 

I don’t know what it is about the scene in front of him, but it is making my father chatty, and I don’t really like it. I’d much rather get to the point.

“How long before Shadowface comes here to find that canister?” I ask.
 

My father lets out a deep breath and shakes his head. “Days. A week. Maybe two. For all I know, Shadowface will wait a month with his eyes watching this place closely. Might wait until we forget about it, or assume that he has stopped watching.”

I stand just behind him, but I can tell he has a grin on his face. He doesn’t seem so much amused as he does bewildered at the connection between this place and Shadowface. I know thoughts are going through his head that no one else in this world knows anything about. Especially me.
 

For instance, I’m sure that he knows who Shadowface is. Otherwise, why would he be chasing after him with such ferocity? And the way he talked about him in the meeting—it’s as though he knows the man personally. And the canister. How could he have known that it was filled with blood? Blood from a…what did he call it? A Starborn? He said he had been studying them for years. I, for one, never thought such a thing existed, but given that I live in a world where the dead walk, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised to learn of super beings living among us.
 

A grin forms at the edge of my mouth as I look out the window with my father. Survival. These Starborns survive because of their heightened senses. Their powers have been brought out to save them from some danger. Fascinating.
 

Wanting to know more, I look at my father, trying to ignore the stench of smoke and death that clouds around him. “How is it you know so much about these Starborns?”

His eyes don’t move from the people below us. His teeth seem to involuntarily grind together as he stares at them. His thoughts are probably a million miles away, but I am too curious to respect his silence.
 

“Please tell me,” I say.
 

His answer comes with unmoving eyes. “I’ve lived a long life of study. Among other things, I gained an interest in old artifacts and ancient history. The Starborns came up time and time again. Their existence in modern days has gone ignored, but they have always been here. We are just finding more of them now because of the dangerous nature of the undead world.”

He finally looks at me with his drooping eyes.
 

“Their powers come out when they need them the most,” he says, “almost like a baby bird leaving its nest. A baby bird has had its wings since before it even hatched from the egg. But once it takes that leap and starts to fly, it will never stop.” He turns back to the people in the street below. “The bird will use its wings until the day it dies.”

“I thought it was interesting that you knew Shadowface would be hiding a vial of Starborn blood. How do you know about that?”
 

“I know a lot of things that you don’t,” he says. “It’s a burden you shouldn’t have to carry.”

“Why?” I ask. “It’s information I think I’m entitled to. You asked me to follow you, to be your right hand, but you won’t let me. You treat me like a common soldier.”
 

“How is Ashley doing?” he asks, ignoring my argument.

This time it’s
my
teeth that grind together. I can feel my blood boiling, but I don’t want to lash out in frustration. Losing my temper will do nothing to get answers.
 

“What is it?” I ask. “What power could be in the canister?”

My father stares straight and shakes his head. “I don’t know what the power is. Nor do I want to discuss this any further.”

I let out a sigh as my fingers clench into fists at my sides. My knuckles pop as a result, but my father doesn’t seem to notice. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this frustrated by his lack of communication.

His words were spoken in finality, so I turn to leave the room. When I reach the door, he calls out to me.
 

“I’m sorry about the others,” he says. “I had a tough decision to make, and I made the wrong one.”

He’s talking about Josh, Ryan, and Lester. It’s his way of telling me that a part of him actually cares that they died, though I’m sure it’s a lie.
 

“Your desire is taking control of you,” I say to him, opening the door to the hallway. “It impairs your judgment.”

“You have no idea,” he says to me.
 

“Surviving is more important than killing Shadowface.”

“To some,” he answers. “To you.” He brings his cigar up to him mouth and sucks in the poisonous smoke. “Killing her is all that matters.”

I feel a sudden jolt in my chest.
“Her?”

I watch him as the smoke billows out of his mouth into a cloud above his head. “Him…her…what’s the difference?”

“I’ve just never heard you call Shadowface a
her
before.” I close the door behind me, but stay in the room. I take a deep breath and fold my arms across my chest. “Who is she?”

“Forget it,” he says. “It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Stop lying to me!” I shout, my arms jabbing in front of me. I let out a curse, and finally he turns to meet my eyes, probably to make sure I’m not about to tackle him to the ground. “Who is this person that we’re supposed to kill?”

“I thought you were beyond caring,” he says to me. “I thought Shadowface’s actions were enough to justify death.”

“Shadowface’s only desire is to take control,” I say. “To overpower the weak. For that, he—
she
should be stopped.”

“He,”
my father corrects. “As I said, slip of the tongue.” He turns back around to face the people in the parking lot, and I swing the door open again.
 

I want to say something to him, to try to get my last word in, but I can’t think of anything. I will get no answers by throwing a fit, but that doesn’t stop me from slamming the door behind me.
 

It’s the morning after my discussion with my father, and I haven’t seen him since then. I don’t care to. After all the lies, all the deception, I believe that I’m coming to a point where I am finished with him. Honestly, I am surprised that I have stayed with him this long.
 

I set our bag of supplies—mostly guns, knives, and food—into the back of the truck. Ashley sits in the driver’s seat, ready to get out of here. I can’t blame her. Who would want to stay here? I almost feel sick that we have to come back.

As I open the door to the truck, Stephen comes out of the nearest building, waving for us to wait. I rest my arms on the roof of the truck and the top of the open door, waiting.
 

“I never got a chance to thank you two,” Stephen says. “What you’re doing for our settlement is helpful. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

“I fear it won’t matter,” I say to him. “If Shadowface wants to destroy this place, which, I’m not sure is the case, then he will.”

“You mean, you don’t think he will start a fight?” Stephen asks, hopeful.
 

“I mean he’s going to accomplish what he sets out to accomplish,” I say. “We just aren’t exactly sure what that entails. That’s why we’re getting extra weapons.” I get into the truck and close the door. Stephen is left standing there with nothing left to say, and Ashley puts the truck into drive.