Revelations (14 page)

Jonas, who had found a shovel somewhere and held it in front of him as a weapon, stepped before me. “Get off our porch,” he growled.

“I’m here for Christiana,” the man said. “Nobody else. We know about the girl in Las Vegas.”

Jonas shook his head, pointing the shovel blade at the guy. “Leave,” he said firmly.

The man on the porch gave me a look that said enough. I nodded my head, and he turned around. Though I couldn’t read his thoughts and he probably couldn’t read mine, we had an understanding. It was simple. I know my place, and he knew his. It was time for me to return to it.

The man said nothing. He turned around and went back to his car. He got in and drove away. I heard Jonas’s shovel clatter to the ground.

It didn’t take much for the people behind me to know exactly what happened.

I’d betrayed them and put them in danger.

The man would return for me. He would not return alone.

The people behind me, who had become my family, knew it.

Hermione was the first to step forward, her usually calm, serene face now awash with anger. “What have you done?” she growled.

I actually took a step away from her as she lowered her head to show me her horns, a good defensive stance, if you ask me. I also knew she could run me through in the span of a heartbeat.

“What did you do?” she asked.

I shook my head. “What I had to do,” I said, not wanting to go into details. “What was right.”

“You exposed us,” she said fiercely, taking another step towards me. “You exposed us to them!”

I swallowed my comments, knowing my words were useless. I knew exactly where this was going.

“You led them to us, Christiana,” Hermione said. “You led them right to us!”

I shook my head. “All I did was heal a little girl,” I said quietly, almost ashamed. Almost.

Hermione looked from me to Jonas and realization crept into her expression, but she said nothing on the subject. She only nodded her head in complete understanding. Then she turned her attention back to me. She took a deep breath, composed herself and cleared her throat. “I think it’s about time for you to leave.”

I once again found myself shaking my head. Yet I knew. I knew I needed to leave. What passed between myself and the man in the black suit was simple. They’d be coming for me and kill whoever stood in their way. Hell, they’d kill anyone nearby. I couldn’t let myself be at the Commune when that man returned. So I’d be leaving. They could find me elsewhere.

Hermione took another step towards me, but this time I didn’t back off. I stood my ground, my chin tilted upwards. Behind her, I saw the faces of my friends, the people I considered to be my family. They were all downcast and rightfully upset. I exposed them. I’d done the unthinkable. I had no right to remain and no right to beg their forgiveness, which is what I really wanted to do.

Even Jonas would not meet my eyes.

I stared down Hermione for a moment longer, my heart in my throat. I waited for her to speak again but she had her say. There were no more words. What was said was said. That was plenty.

Taking only the clothes on my back, I turned from the Commune, turned my back on my friends and my home, and I walked into the desert, headed for the highway. My life in the desert, the perfect life I had been given and fought so hard to keep all ended within five minutes’ time.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I walked and walked, my head hanging low, wishing I would sweat if only to cool off my body a little bit. Instead, my skin remained bone dry – though never sunburning thanks to my quick healing skin— and my mouth soon followed suit. Panting didn’t help, even though I tried. It was miles to the highway and when I finally reached it, it felt like a hundred. Exhausted, mostly mentally but somewhat physically, I wanted to linger at the exit to Cima Road for a while, if only to catch my breath, but I needed to get as far away from the Commune as possible. And fast.

The traffic on Cima was light, as always, and I easily made my way to the gas station on the other side of the freeway. I stole a bottle of water and a couple of candy bars, used the bathroom as my excuse for going inside— not that I needed an excuse or anything since I could just hide my activities from the clerk— and went back into the heat. I headed back to the side of the highway and began walking in the general direction of north, the way the majority of the traffic traveled. The Nevada border wasn’t all too far away, and if I kept on in the direction I was going, I could probably reach it by the end of the day or get lucky and a car would pick me up.

I drank the bottle of water slowly, savouring each sip. I ate the candy bars quickly, because I didn’t want the chocolate to melt in the hot summer sun. I really just wanted the candy for the sugar factor, for something to keep me going. When those were gone, I had a bit more energy. The sun was already past its zenith so I had more long, hot hours to come. Unfortunately, candy is not something you can live off of.

I didn’t think much on what I’d done. I’d picked that room at random. I couldn’t have guessed what I would encounter in there. If it was something simple, or non-lethal, I would never have been discovered because it would never make the evening news. She had been dying. It had been a hard cure. It wasn’t just a walk in the park with a guy with a minor cold. Her disease was deadly. Impossible. Others called this sort of thing a miracle. What I should have done was change my mind and walk away. Instead, I went ahead with my plans.

I lost everything.

I lost my family and what I gained in them. I feared for them, certainly, because of what I’d done. I knew that man was after me and only me. I am the one they wanted. If I left, they’d leave the Commune alone. I had no doubts about this. There was no reason to hurt those innocent people. They’d go back there, see I was gone, and they’d leave. They would find me again, hunt me down again, and they would take me back to Holt. I’d be back where I belonged. Somehow, I found it easy to accept this. I didn’t belong at the Commune. I belonged with my creator.

After about twenty minutes of walking on the side of the highway, I heard the squeal of brakes and the honking of horns. A vehicle suddenly swerved out ahead of me, kicking up a cloud of dust on the freeway shoulder so thick I couldn’t even tell what kind of car it was. I stopped in my tracks. Waving my hand in front of my face to try and keep the dust out of my eyes and nose, I waited for everything to settle before going to investigate whatever the hell had just happened.

It took only an instant for me to realize what occurred.

I saw the white paint of the truck through the haze and rolled my eyes as dramatically as I could, not that he could see. Then I marched into the falling dust cloud with the intent to holler and yell. Instead, I found myself with a sudden lack of oxygen, as I was wrapped in a giant bear hug.

“Jonas, let go,” I said, pushing him away from me.

He let go of me and stepped back, keeping his hands on my shoulders lest I try and get away again. “Where did you think you were going?” he asked me, an expression of relief on his scaled face.

“I can ask you the same question,” I said.

“I been looking everywhere for you,” he said. “I went for miles in the opposite direction, turned around, and came back. I didn’t think you’d be headed for Vegas.”

“I’m not headed for Vegas,” I said. “I’m just trying to get as far away from the Commune as possible.”

“It’s faster if you hitch a ride,” he said, hooking a thumb at his truck.

“I would if it had been getting dark,” I told him. “I’m fine walking.” As emphasis for my own words, I started walking away from him.

“Chris?” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to keep everyone safe!” I called to him as a semi-truck roared by.

“You really think you can just leave me behind?” he asked, following me.

“Yes,” I told him. “It’s safer for you, safer for everyone if I travel alone.”

Jonas trotted up to me, took my upper arm and swung me around to face him. He put his hand on the back of my neck and forced a kiss upon me. When I was released, I felt the same dizzy feeling I always did when kissing him. I closed my eyes and relaxed in his arms. “See?” he said. “You can’t leave without me. Nobody else will ever make me feel like this. I’m not letting you go.”

“Jonas,” I said quietly.

He shook his head, his gold eyes glittering in the sunlight. “I don’t care if it’s not safe. I don’t care if there are people out there trying to take you alive or kill you. You aren’t going without me.”

I found myself smiling up at him, my heart all aflutter. “Are you sure?” I asked him, just to give him one last chance to change his mind.

“I’m sure,” he said.

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for coming to find me,” I said.

He led me over to the truck. “I packed some of your things,” he said as he opened the door for me. “I didn’t have a lot of time so I just grabbed some stuff. And I have some money.”

“Money isn’t really necessary,” I said, getting in the truck.

“How so?” he asked when he sat down in his seat.

“I can make people think whatever I want them to think,” I said.

“Ever do that to me?” he asked. He pulled back onto the highway, still pointed in the direction of Las Vegas.

“Never,” I said. “And I never will.”

He smiled. “Where are we going anyway?” he asked after a moment of silence passed.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to Vegas,” I said.

“What are we going to do there?” he asked.

“Gamble,” I said then added, “and wait.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It only took me a year to once again ruin the life I’d built for myself. It only took seven days for my life with Christian to end. I quickly put thoughts of Christian out of my mind. Desperately, I wanted to find him, but I knew I couldn’t bring him into this now. It was too dangerous. I assumed the gov knew where I was going at all times. So, when Jonas and I reached the city line, I almost expected to immediately see black sedans in the rearview mirror. Instead, they left us alone.

For the moment.

It was almost four o’clock in the evening–or is that still considered to be afternoon?–when we reached the outskirts of the city. No lights burned, no towering beacons lit up the sky. I knew there would be, when darkness fell. For now, it was just a regular city with strange buildings. That was that.

I didn’t protest when Jonas pulled into a hotel parking lot, even though the hotel stood in the middle of the Strip itself. I just swallowed, wondering if it was a good idea to stay in a busy place. If the gov was going to find me and try to take me, they would be willing to hurt anyone who stood in the way, even an innocent Vegas bystander. I kept this bit of worry to myself. I worry quite often— it’s a hobby— and sometimes I worry simply for the heck of it. I thought this might be one of those times. If they did come for me, I wouldn’t go willingly, but I’d make sure no one else got hurt in the process. At least, as best I could.

Anyway, Jonas slipped his famous hooded sweatshirt over his head and put up the hood. He pulled the sides of the hood tight over his face and put on his sunglasses. “I’m ready,” he said.

“For what? A gangster reunion?”

He snorted laughter and shook his head. “Come on.” He took my hand and led the way.

We walked together through the parking lot and headed indoors, looking for the reception desk. Following signs and marveling over the lack of stares at Jonas’s odd appearance–though more people would have stopped had he been hoodless, and I was not hiding him because my mind dwelled in a faraway place— we found our way to the check-in desk. We waited in a short line and went up when it was our turn.

Jonas leaned on the counter and cleared his throat. “We need a room,” he said in his gruff voice.

I raised my eyebrows at Joe, the guy behind the counter, realizing what he saw, but he made no comment.

“How many nights?” the guy asked.

“Just one, for now,” Jonas said. “If we need another, we’ll let you know.”

“I don’t have many rooms available,” said the reception guy. “Is there a particular rate you were looking for?”

Jonas looked at me, silently asking me if this would work, and I smiled. “Whatever you got. Money’s not a problem.”

“Okay,” said the check-in guy, a big grin on his face now since he’d just given us a very expensive room. “Here you go.” He slid a piece of paper across the counter to Jonas. “I just need a signature and to see an ID.”

Jonas once again looked at me. He had no identification whatsoever and neither of us thought about this in advance. He saved the day by handing me the fake ID Philip gave me, which he’d thoughtfully taken from the Commune when he packed my things. He gave it to the guy saying, “We’ll use hers, if that’s okay.”

“Fine,” said the guy, giving the ID a quick look over. I was suddenly glad I owned a really good fake. He handed the ID back to Jonas, who gave it to me, and I put it in my pocket. “Now, cash or credit?”

“Cash,” Jonas said. He swallowed a little too hard as he pulled a wad of small bills from his pocket. As he had been instructed, by me, of course, he peeled off the bills one by one, and, in the mind of the check-in guy, handed over three one hundred dollar bills and two twenties. The hotel cost us thirty two dollars.