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“When I heard about a young girl traveling with two Alphas, I thought you might’ve been in trouble. I would’ve taken the opportunity to rid you of them now, by ensuring they never made it over that wall. Offered escape, if you needed it.”
“I appreciate your concern, but those two men are the only thing I have in the world. The only people I trust.”
“Then, let’s get them on this side of the wall.” Taking the lead once again, she ventures deeper into the woods, while I trail her steps, until we arrive at a wall that nearly reaches the treetops in height.
I watch as she climbs a nearby tree with the ease of someone who’s done it a million times before. “You’re not what I expected, I have to admit.”
“Neither are you,” she says, a little out of breath.
Choosing the same footing, I shadow her climb, willing myself not to look down as we ascend toward the leafy canopy. Once high enough, she ties off one end of the rope around a particularly thick overhanging branch, and tosses the other end over the wall. The end of the branch dips, and in no more than a minute, Cadmus appears over the top of the wall. The sight of him puts me at ease. Not that I worried for him, but in this strange place, it’s a relief to see a familiar face. Behind him, Brandon climbs over, far more winded, and clings to the branch when his eyes undoubtedly catch sight of the height.
Feeling useless, I make my way back down the tree, and at about ten feet, leap to the ground. Cadmus follows after, then Brandon. As though he’s searching for evidence of someone having harmed me, Cadmus takes a moment to look me over, his gaze roving in silent appraisal. It takes a good ten, or fifteen, minutes for all the males to climb over, with Six being the last. Once everyone is on the ground, Wren offers a couple of jars of water she packed from the house. “The trees will provide some cover. From here, we’ll head straight to Gregor’s.”
By my estimates, it’s about ten o’clock at night, if the moon’s position in the sky is any indicator. I recall the night I lay beneath the stars with Valdys, and he told me the light we see is the sun’s reflection on its surface. How strange, the way it mirrors my thoughts about him now. How the warmth of my memories has been like the sun on my face in this pitch black world.
I rub my hands together in my lap, nervous for the upcoming days, when I’ll finally be reunited with Valdys. I’ve spent weeks wondering if I’ll recognize him. If he’ll smell the same. Feel the same. Be the same man I knew before they took him away from me.
If I close my eyes, I can almost feel Valdys’s arms wrapped around me, the tickle of his chest hair brushing over my cheek.
My body aches for him, and the sooner we get to those tunnels, the sooner my heart will be full again.
Chapter 17
Wren
Gregor McCann is a genius, the kind one should approach with caution, because a man holding as much knowledge as he does isn’t easily duped. As I make my way up the staircase of his front porch, my heart is in my throat. From what I remember of him, he rarely spoke, and when he did, it was with far more sarcasm than Papa.
He often reminisced of the old days, when he smoked pot more hours out of the day than not, and somehow still maintained a perfect record where he attended school. That was back when school was a necessity in life, a means of getting ahead. Nowadays, it’s reserved for those who might have some interest in activities other than becoming the next Legion soldier, or Daughter. Sucking in a breath, I raise my hand and knock on the door. Lights inside tell me Gregor is still awake, though it’s hard to say what state he’s in. Over the years, it seems he traded marijuana for alcohol, and indulged in it freely back when Papa looked after him.
Or his liver, rather.
The door swings open on a man slightly taller than me, and slim, with more gray hair than the last time I saw him. He squints his eyes, and lifts the pair of spectacles hanging from a thin chain around his neck. “Wren? Is that you?”
“Yeah. How are you, Gregor?”
“Is everything all right? What are you doing here?”
“I need your help.” I glance to the side, where Six and the others hide in the bushes, and jerk my head for them to make themselves known. The moment they step into view, Gregor’s eyes go wide, brow furrowed.
“What is this?”
“We need to talk.”
“Who are these people?”
“Friends of mine. I promise they mean you no harm.”
“Then, why are they hiding in the bushes?” Still wearing a dubious frown, he scratches his cheek.
“Because, unfortunately, Legion means to do them harm.”
Perhaps it’s only out of trust for Papa and the friendship they shared that he gives a nod and steps aside, allowing us entry into his home. Could also be that he never really had a healthy respect for authority, and often complained of Legion.
As a Phase Three model, his home is far more opulent than Papa’s house, which would be considered more of a shack by comparison. The unique details inside--vaulted ceilings with windows and irregularly-shaped design—tell me he was the architect of this one.
He leads the group through a door off the living room, to a study, judging by the bookshelves and a desk, arranged in front of a large picture window at the opposite side of the door where we stand.
“What’s, uh …. What’s going on, Wren?” He doesn’t talk like a sixty-some year old man, but like a hippy who never really embraced age. Young and spunky.
