Voice (16 page)

“Jemma?” her mother answered. Her voice was muffled when she continued. “Of course it’s Jemma, Matt, who else would be calling this early?” She felt Jack hiding a laugh against her neck before Carolyn’s voice came through clearly again. “Jemma, is that you?”

“It’s me, Mom.” Jemma swallowed, surprised by the break in her voice. “Sorry to call so early, but we don’t have cell phones right now and wanted to let you know we’re headed home.”

“Right now?!?” Jemma held the phone away from herself, trying to find a volume button. “How far away are you?”

“Maybe five hours. Can you watch the yelling, please? I’m excited, too, but my head is killing me.”

“Are you okay, Jemma?” Carolyn’s voice dropped into an acceptable register but carried more worry.

“She’s okay, Mrs. Tyler. We’ve been checked out, and she’s got something for the pain. We’re gonna try to hit the road before it kicks in.”

“Jack? Call me Carolyn, please. You’ll be driving, then? Are you dropping her off here before you go see your dad?”

Jemma sent a wave of discontent through their connection before she could decide to, and Jack tightened his grip on her before responding. “We weren’t actually planning to split up. I thought we’d visit one house first, and then—”

“No, no, that won’t do,” Carolyn interrupted. “That’s not going to be enough time for anybody, if you’re leaving right after you get here. Tell you what. You drive to your father’s. We’ll have Jilly go first and let him know what to expect, and then we’ll all meet you there. That gives us the most time together.”

Jack sent a silent question, and Jemma nodded. “That sounds good.”

“See you in a little while, Mom.”

“See you in a little while, Jemma. And Jack? You take care of my little girl.”

“We take care of each other,” Jack answered. Jemma hung up the phone and turned to him, fighting the sleepiness she could already feel setting back in.

“That was a fairly sappy statement,” she told him.

His mouth twitched. “True, though.”

She smiled and leaned forward, claiming a kiss from him before they started the drive toward what she knew was likely to be a taxing family reunion.

***

By the time they parked at Jack’s house, Don’s driveway full next door, most of the sleepiness from Jemma’s pain medication had worn off. Much of the effectiveness had too, though, and it wasn’t yet time for another dose. She kept her arm, with the clean bandage in place over the incision, against her body so she would remember not to move it. Jack came around the car and opened her door so she didn’t need to twist to reach the handle with her good arm. Hand-in-hand, they started across the grass that separated the driveways, and they’d made it about halfway when Jemma’s family came streaming out of Jack’s father’s house.

Jemma smiled at the sight of her mom in front, ready to embrace her, but she let go of Jack’s hand to hold out hers in caution. Carolyn slowed, immediately eying the arm Jemma held cradled to her torso. “I’ll be fine, Mom. I just need you to be careful with the hug. That’s all.” She stretched her good arm back out, in welcome this time, and her mother moved forward again, pulling her into her embrace. She was surprised to feel tears along both cheeks, not just the one her mother’s face was pressed into.

Carolyn pulled back, finally, moving to hug Jack so Matt and Jill could have their turns with Jemma.

“We’d better get inside,” Carolyn said after another minute had passed, linking her arm through Jemma’s. “Don’s waiting for us. Jack, lead the way.”

With a grinning glance back at Jemma, Jack moved ahead of them and into the house. By the time they got inside, he and his dad had folded each other into a hug in the living room, the older man shaking slightly. When they pulled apart, Don, whom his son resembled so strongly, smiled broadly at Jemma and waved her over to him.

“Careful of her arm, Dad,” said Jack, his voice tight and his eyes bright. Don nodded before giving her a hug almost as enthusiastic as the one he’d given his son.

“Good to have the two of you home.” Don’s voice, unlike so much of his body, was steady. When he pulled back, his eyes twinkled at her. “Do you mind if we sit? My bones could use a break.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” answered Jemma. It took a couple of minutes for everybody to get settled. The parents ended up on the couch, Jack and Jemma on the loveseat, and Jilly on the recliner.

Matt was the first to speak. “We’re all glad to have you back. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, though, that you went about this all wrong, passing letters and secret electronic communications and long distance phone calls, no communication at all for six weeks. If you had just come right out and said something—”

“Matthew,” Carolyn interrupted, “you know what Jilly said she thinks happened.”

“Yes, and I’m waiting for the proper communication they should have used from the beginning. We still know nothing other than what I just said and that our daughter’s been hurt.”

Jemma stared. She’d been away from her parents for so long that she’d stopped imagining their reunion as anything but happy. Overwhelming with her family’s normal exuberance, yes, but happy. She felt Jack send her both uncertainty and reassurance, his thumb stroking hers, the movement not missed by her father.

Don chuckled, drawing attention. “You’ll have to excuse your father, Jemma. When a parent has to see a child doing something dangerous, it can be hard to choose between hugging out of relief or scolding out of worry. Sometimes we do both, don’t we, Matthew?” Matt’s mouth twitched downward. “We know that you’re both intelligent adults who wouldn’t have worried us all without very good reason, and we’ll give you a chance to tell your story before we say any more.”

Carolyn patted Matthew’s arm and nodded encouragingly while Jill watched. Finally, Matt nodded, too. Everyone turned back to face Jack and Jemma.

Jemma swallowed. “We tell them everything?” she sent.

“I think it’s time.” He sent a wave of amusement. “I mean, maybe we don’t need to be explicit about the making out or the sharing a bed, and we shouldn’t say we can still Talk. But everything else? Yes. Let’s do it.”

Hoping she wasn’t blushing, Jemma nodded, took a breath, and started from the beginning. “I’d just gone to bed after reading an article when I heard this voice in my room…”

***

Amazingly, their families let them get through everything with few interruptions, minor questions here and there for clarification, a couple of brief pauses for first Jemma and then Don to take medication. A few times, like during her explanation of Josh’s treatment of her, Jemma had to watch the floor, drawing on Jack’s strength to get through the retelling of it. She noted that he left out when he’d been disciplined by the guards, and she intentionally avoided mentioning her nightmares.

When they finally finished, there was silence. Jemma looked at her knees, hesitant to gauge her family’s reactions, not sure how much of her drained feeling came from the story and how much came from the drugs, not caring that she was leaning against Jack’s shoulder.

Her mother’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. “I’m so sorry that we couldn’t protect you from that.” Jemma looked up to see Carolyn crossing the room to give her another hug, wrapping Jack in it, too. “And I am so proud of everything that you did.” She pulled back, sniffing, and rejoined her husband on the couch.

Matthew watched them, then nodded. “I still think direct communication may have helped, especially in the beginning,” he said, “but I understand why you made the choices you did. I can’t say for certain I’d have done otherwise.” He wrapped his arm around his wife, pulling her close to him.

Don smiled, his eyes lacking some of that earlier sparkle. “It’s good that you’re home again where we can keep an eye on you.” He yawned. “Or at least where these young ones can. I need a nap. Help me, son?”

Jemma shifted so Jack could help his father to his room, and Jill took her turn to comment on the situation.

“Holy shit, Jemma, can I tell people any of that story?”

“Language,” Matt responded automatically.

“Sorry, Dad.” Jill’s response sounded just as automatic as she watched her sister for an answer.

Jemma shook her head. “I don’t really think you should. I still don’t really feel safe, and I’m not sure how long it’ll take before I do. We thought it was time to tell our families because we hated keeping everything from you, but having everyone know? That doesn’t feel right.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I’m glad to have you home anyway.”

Jemma smiled at her sister. “Thanks, Jilly.”

Jack rejoined them, and Jemma snuggled against him as soon as he sat back down, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see whether her family reacted. She was too tired to care, too comfortable, too drained, too content. “Is your dad okay?” she sent.

“Yeah, he’s just tired. He’ll be back up in a couple hours. You rest, too.” She felt his lips against her hair and then the rumble of his voice against her chest, and she was vaguely aware of her mom responding to whatever he’d said, and then she was only aware of the darkness of sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

You Two

A dream shouldn’t feel so real. She shouldn’t be able to hear his voice echo in her head. “You’re not alone, Jemma.” Josh was smiling at her angelically.

Jemma sat up in bed, sweat beading at the base of her skull.

Where was she?

Her family had stayed the rest of the day, leaving after dinner, her father visibly deciding not to ask about sleeping arrangements. Her family wasn’t used to her having someone, but it seemed they were willing to treat it as normal if that was what she wanted.

She looked next to her and saw Jack sleeping soundly. They were in his house, his bed. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to slow her heart. She’d thought maybe she was done with these dreams, done with waking up in a panic.

Looking at the clock, she saw it wasn’t anywhere close to time to wake up, nor was it time for her to take another pill. She was hoping to start going longer between doses, anyway, already tired of the drowsiness.

She tried to get comfortable again, staring at the ceiling, hoping she wouldn’t fall back to sleep only to have the same dream. She needed to find some way to get closure, some proof that they were safe from Tricorp BioD and all of its employees.

Especially from Josh.

***

Reclaiming Lives

I can only imagine what life is like for the people who were taken by Tricorp BioD. We’ve only heard snippets, bits and pieces of official information as the government tries to protect the people it failed to protect earlier.

Ominously, one of the only things we know for sure is that they were treated badly enough by the company that all of them were offered free and immediate medical assessment and treatment. One source confirmed that of all of those who took them up on the offer, not a single one was completely unharmed.

Not even one.

In the meantime, at least some of them were working to save not only themselves, but all of us. To give us back not only our voices, but, if all is to be believed, our lives.

I’ve been unable to verify where any of these people were located, but if any of them are nearby and willing to be interviewed, I’d love to speak with you. At the very least, I’d like the chance to thank you for returning things like my daughter’s laughter.

Keep these people in mind today as you go about your day. Things we take for granted, even making a purchase requiring ID, aren’t so easy for those affected. A press release this morning indicated that some identification, credit cards, and other personal belongings for those held by Tricorp BioD have been recovered. However, since they may have a role as evidence in some of the charges, it could be months, potentially longer, before these are returned. As a result, people already removed from their homes against their will now need to download a special form, found here, to take to the nearest DMV for a replacement driver’s license, just to get a start on resuming their lives. There’s no word yet on further compensation as the government continues to deny involvement, but at the very least, we can do our part to help if we’re presented with the opportunity.

—Katie Brink, Staff Writer

The weekend passed in a haze of rest and recovery. Early Monday morning, Jemma filled out the form to replace her license, pausing multiple times to breathe through her frustration at her slowly improving eyesight, then printed it and left the page open for Jack to fill out his. She’d woken before him and helped herself to toaster pastries, coffee, and one of his computers, setting up for the morning at a little desk that was just inside their limited range of connection.

She felt the connection widen when Jack awoke, and she tried to send him a wave of greeting before remembering that she couldn’t send emotion without contact. “I’m out here,” she sent instead.

He stumbled out of the room in his t-shirt and pajama bottoms, rubbing his eyes before he looked at her. She knew she felt a little more alert, that she held her arm a little further from her body, and when he broke into a grin, it seemed to reinforce the fact that she was healing. She fought the urge to fidget, feeling self-conscious for maybe the first time around him, aware of the shirt she’d borrowed from him, the exercise shorts he said he’d never worn. He stepped forward and placed a kiss to her forehead, sending with it affection, happiness, and contentment.