Glow (15 page)

48.

Lukas

I smell salt water and wind in my hair.

I smell the sound, and know we’re moving toward the home I’ve always known, toward the place Lucy and I will lead.

Even if all I see is dark, I know we are moving toward The Light.

49.

Charlie

Somehow Colton knew what the heck he was doing; he was born to direct people. And all the time I’ve known him I just thought he was a funny guy who wanted to be center stage.

Now he’s in charge. It was a several-mile walk to the ferry, and I can’t believe we never explored it before today. As we make our way to the ferry that’s been stationary for sixteen years, I hope this isn’t all in vain. We don’t know if Lukas can get this thing to start.

Lucy would love to be conscious for this moment, when we take in the dock holding the boat, and take our steps onto the vessel. We’re lucky there’s a boat here at all; I read somewhere once that there was a whole fleet of these ships used for commuting.

I wonder what it was like the day it came into the dock, settling in for its final night of transporting people back and forth, from island to island, before the blackout. There may have been hardly any people left that last ride. So many people were dying for the days leading up to the blackout. So many dying in the days that followed. I’ve read final accounts from Grandpa Benjamin’s newspapers, articles now burned in the barn fire, reports on the epidemic were being printed until everything stopped. Stopped working, moving, breathing.

It’s impossible to imagine a world where this dock teemed with life. But from I stand, the remains give me a glimpse. Rows of empty, rotting cars, like the ones we see everywhere we go, line the road up to the dock. Bicycles with tires long ago flattened. Plastic barrels used to hold trash, hug the loading area chained tightly in place.

An entire world swept away by a deadly virus … that no one is even left in the word to dissect, to understand, to make sure is never spread again. But spread to whom? There aren’t many of us left, and the still standing hold AK-47’s ready to kill and destroy.

Still, the dock holds me captive because it leads to the water and crashing waves. It’s hard not to think back to when Lucy and I looked over the water as we watched the setting sun. I held her close as we rode on the back of Lucky, so close I felt her heart beat, felt her life force thumping hard and fast.

I’ve let that go. The dream of her and me riding off into the sunset. It’s not real. It’s an illusion of a make-believe life that would be too easy. I want to sacrifice for the great love of my life, and I’d never have to do that if I was with Lucy. If Lucy was with me. We’re too alike. We have the same yearnings, but that doesn’t mean we’re right for one another.

Duke, Colton, Ernie, and Jax carry the stretcher holding the Rainbow Children onto the ferry. We are forced up an awkward, incredibly narrow, flight of stairs, but thankfully Lukas and Lucy are close together and the stretcher is small enough to make the passage. The group from the compound follows Lukas and Lucy as they are carried to the engine room. It’s a big room, but everyone turns their focus on the stretcher now sitting on the floor in the center. Lukas and Lucy are still aglow within their shining orb of light. We watch as Colton carefully places Lukas’s hands on the engine.

Instantly, it roars to life. Duke and Colton whoop out a cheer, and sighs of relief escape the lips of my other friends. My mouth curls into smile in spite of myself. Junie reaches over and squeezes my hand, and even though she’s said things to me that were hard to hear, I know we are in this together, all of us in this room. And right now, for the first time all day, it feels as if we have a fighting chance.

With Lukas giving us all a boost of confidence, my parents find their position in the engine room and Dad begins directing the ferry towards Refuge Two, to find Care and a cure. As the enormous ship begins to propel, we move slowly at first, but faster as we push along through the choppy, bluish green waters. Dad steers the boat fueled by his son.

This should all feel stranger than it does. My life has always included a power charged brother, who brings whole cities of people to life. This is no different.

People begin to disperse. Colton is headed to make a plan of attack with the cowboys for once we dock with the Coalition. Basil’s agreed to help him with that since she has at least a small idea of what Refuge Two’s like, having been held prisoner there herself.

I walk outside to the outer deck, the cold air flapping against my cheek, suspending me in amazement as the boat continues to move away from the dock and into the vastness of the sound. Travelling back to the people who destroyed my family is a punch to the gut, and I close my eyes, trying to remember what it was like before I left.

“You ready to go back there?” Duke says walking up to me. The horses are all below, tied to railings and I hear some of them whinnying in surprise at the movement under them. We humans are in shock too at the fact we’re moving like this, across the water. We only know a slow pace, quick death kind of life.

This is all new.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. There’s some unfinished business I have to tend to,” I answer truthfully, thinking about Perfection. “What about you? You want to go to the place that deemed you not good enough?” I knew Duke was too old to join The Light when things got desperate for him.

“Yeah. Though honestly, I’m a little scared.”

“Of what?”

“I can’t decide if it’s fear that she won’t be there, or fear that she will,” Duke says, gripping the railing, looking over the choppy waves as they break against the ship.

“Who?” I ask.

“My sister. The Light took her, but wouldn’t take me. Same story as most of these cowboys here. Either their moms or their sisters or their lovers. Vessels of The Light.  That’s why we’re willing to fight.”

I had forgotten that in my fervor for Lucy, in my indignation at my parents, at my jealousy of Lucky that everyone here has a past that tells a story. Stories they never talk about. Stories that have sad endings. Except, maybe not. Not if Lukas and Lucy are able to do what they are setting out to do.

“How long has it been?” I ask.

“A long time. Eight years, maybe. I probably wouldn’t recognize her if I saw her.” Duke flinches his fist. “I shouldn’t have ever let her go. I should have found another way to feed her, to keep her safe.”

“Hey, man. You did what you had to do. You let her go hoping it would keep her alive.” But I know my words sound shallow. Life is hard enough without the guilt of what could have been weighing you down.

Junie walks up to us, and links her arm through Duke’s.

“She’ll be here. I have a sense, Duke,” Junie reassures him.

I bet she’s right. Junie hasn’t been wrong yet.

50.

Lucy

Lukas’s mind presses against me and if I was able to hold my breath, I would. But I can’t. I only hear the heavy hum of the engine roaring to life and I know it is Lukas who made this happen.

He’s taking us across water on a boat charged by his own body. I know how incredible it is, even though I can’t see him, feel him, or taste him.

I can hear him, the inside of him.

“
Lucy, something happened, back there at the Headquarters.
”

“
I know, I just can’t tell what. The voices were all muffled. Just screaming, yelling. It was too hard to understand so I pushed the sound away.
”

“
You can’t keep pushing things away.
”

“
Like what?
”

“
Like me.
”

“
I won’t. Not anymore. I promise. I was so close to losing you, forever. I will never push you away again.”

I mean it.

Whatever
it
is. I won’t not be the girl from before, scared to give in to what she really wanted, scared of living. Scared of love.

52.

Charlie

Walking through the passenger deck, I marvel at the hundreds of seats situated between tables, secured to the floor. The big windows are covered in grime and years of dust, but with the wipe of my hand I look through one, out to the water. Seagulls soar over the glassy surface, searching for food. Sitting down at the table I read the sign over the buffet line: Cafeteria. The remains of a kitchen fill the space, trays are stacked neatly from their last use; urns for something to drink sit empty.

It would’ve been nice to live in a world where dinner meant standing in line, buying food with money you earned at job. Watching the seagulls dip in the water while you talked with a friend across the table.

I wander into the kitchen, curious. On the counter rests a machine that used to keep track of purchases, a cash register Dad said to me once. A supply closet is behind the register and I swing open a door, revealing shelving filled with cans.

It’s impossible not to grin. We had good food at headquarters, fresh fruit in the summer, preserved for the winter. Eggs and meat. But this? This is food that takes no work. Cans with labels of food I don’t recognize, but want to try.

I set to work, excited to have a working kitchen thanks to Lukas, and eager for a task. Standing around doing nothing keeps my mind on Timid, and right now I need a distraction. I grab a ten-pound can from the shelf,
Clam Chowder.
Hmm.

After rooting around some drawers I find a can opener. Once using it to peel off the lid, a creamy, fishy substance fills my noise. Dinner. I grab a giant pot from the rack and dump the cans contents into it. I start humming a song I don’t know the name of, quite pleased with myself. Who’d have thought? Charlie the cook.

I turn a knob on the electric stove and clap my hands as the burner changes from black to bright orange before my eyes.

“Score!” I shout, clapping my hands.

“What’s going on?” Colton ducks his head into the kitchen smiling when he sees what I’m up to. “Sweet. Everyone’s starved.”

“Well, this tub is marked
coffee
. Want to make it? Mom says that was her favorite thing before the blackout.”

“Sure, but I don’t want to eff it up.”

“You won’t. It has directions. You can read, right?” I laugh, but feel bad instantly. Perfection can’t read. I need to be more sensitive.

“Alright boss. Coffee coming up. It’s a fancy drink, right?”

“I think so. I, on the other hand am making fourteen-years-past-it’s-prime Clam Chowder.” We fist pump, sharing grins.

Before I know it, Junie, Basil, Hana, and Duke have all wandered into the kitchen wanting to pitch in. For most of us this is novel. Besides Hana, who has the most recent experience in a working kitchen from when she was at The Light, the rest of us have never had these luxuries.

The girls mix together a box labeled Corn Bread - Just Add Water. They make more of a mess on the floor then gets in the pan, but miraculously the tray is filled with a sweet yellow batter quickly. They cook it up in no time, just like the box says, ten minutes. We would never had time to scout a rabbit in that time, let alone kill, skin, and roast it.

Duke finds a box of disposable bowls and spoons. He sets them out, as neatly as possible for a guy who’s most familiar with eating with his hands out of a shared pot. He gets Jax to gather the cowboys together to come eat.

Everyone smiles as the cowboys climb the stairs from below deck to join this makeshift party. Jax pulls out a harmonica just like mine, and begins to play. We haven’t done that together in long time. I want to join in, but my heart is still too heavy. Instead I hang back, stirring the chowder.

“Coffee is read-ay!” Colton cheers, pushing his arm in the air like a natural born fool. A round of applause erupts for him, even though my guess is half these guys have no idea what the fuss about coffee is all about.

“Great, I’m gonna go bring my parents some, okay?” I take two paper cups and fill them with the most luxurious liquid I’ve ever smelled in my life. It’s dark brown and thick steam rises from the top. I take a tray from the stack placing the cups on it, and then I put two bowls of chowder on it, balancing it with my hands.

“Okay, I’ll get people served up, delivery boy,” Colton says patting my back as I head out of the kitchen towards the captain’s room.

I can tell my parents are arguing before I even kick open the swinging door. Abruptly they stop talking, which is a telltale sign of a halted fight.

“I brought you dinner. I know we’re almost to the Refuge, but we found some food. And coffee!” I can’t help but grin because even though the tension is high between us, I know what a steaming cup will mean. You can’t grow up in this world without hearing Olders talk about the things they miss the most.

“No way!” Mom’s face, the one that was tense moments ago suddenly lights up.

“I know, right? All this time, this ferry was propped a few miles from headquarters full of coffee and clam soup!” I say, laughing as I had her a cup.

“Chowder, it’s called clam chowder. Nicely done, Charlie. This is a dream!” Mom exclaims.

Dad takes his from the tray, and leans into Mom. “Cheers, dear. To finally doing what we set out to do.” 

They delicately touch the lips of their coffee cups and take eager drinks. Their faces change after they take a sip. It’s a look full of memories, reflections on a life lost. Sadness mixed with regret mixed with love. I see the love somewhere in there. I know I do.

“As good as you remembered?” I ask.

“Better.” Mom’s eyes have tears in them.

“What are you guys gonna do, after we kill the Councilmen?” I ask.

“What are you going to do?” Dad asks me, setting down his cup on the table, as he looks back over the steering wheel.

“It depends.”

“Doesn’t it though?” Mom asks, laughing quietly. She takes another sip, and I see her eyes look past Dad, through the window in the captain’s room. Straight ahead.

Refuge Two.

We are here.