[Lorien Legacies 04.0] The Fall of Five Page 8

  I love you.

  Forever, your faithful servant,

  Crayton

  I stop reading aloud and lower Crayton’s letter with shaky hands. There are tears in my eyes. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to have such a huge part of my identity just ripped away from me. Everyone is silent, even Nine. Ella makes a small snuffling sound, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

  “You’re still one of us,” I whisper to her. “You’re Loric.”

  Ella starts to sob, choked words escaping her in a torrent. “I’m—I’m a fraud. I’m not like you. I’m just some rich guy’s daughter who got launched off the planet because her dad was a creep.”

  “That’s not true,” says Eight, putting his arm around Ella.

  “I wasn’t chosen,” Ella cries. “I’m not—it was all just lies.”

  Nine takes the letter out of my hands, glancing it over. “So what?” he says dismissively.

  Ella looks at him, her eyes widening. “So what?”

  “The charm is broken,” Nine continues. “The numbers don’t mean shit. You can be Ten, you can be Fifty-Four, it doesn’t mean anything. Who cares?”

  Nine sounds so callous, just brushing off what is such a major blow for Ella. She looks stunned. I’m not sure that she’s even hearing Nine.

  “What Nine is so indelicately trying to say,” interjects Eight, “is that it doesn’t matter how you got here. Just because we flew in on different ships doesn’t mean we’re not the same.”

  “Shit,” grumbles Nine, “I wish there’d been more selfish dudes like your pops. We could have a whole army.”

  I shoot Nine a look and he puts his hands up, making a zippering motion across his mouth. Even with Nine’s total lack of tact, between the three of us, it seems like we’ve managed to calm Ella down. Her crying is slowing and, after a moment, she drops her hastily packed bag to the floor.

  “I just feel so lost without Crayton,” she whispers to me, her voice husky. “He died thinking he was a coward because he never told me the truth and—and he wasn’t. He was good. I just wish I could tell him so.”

  She trails off, a fresh batch of tears wetting my neck as she cries. So that’s what this is really about; it’s not so much what Ella learned about herself, although I’m sure that was shocking, but what she learned about Crayton. I stroke her hair, just letting her cry.

  “I wish every day I could have just one more conversation with my Cêpan,” Eight says quietly.

  “Me too,” Nine agrees.

  “It never gets easier,” Eight continues. “We just have to keep going. To live up to what they expected us to be. Crayton was right, Ella. One day, you will make our people proud.”

  Ella pulls me and Eight into a hug. We stay like that for a while, until Nine steps forward to awkwardly pat Ella on the back. She looks up at him.

  “Is that the best you can do?”

  Nine sighs dramatically. “Fine.”

  He wraps his arms around the three of us and squeezes, practically lifting us off the floor. Eight groans and Ella lets out something that’s part laugh and part wheeze. I’m getting crushed too, but I can’t help smiling. I lock eyes with Ella and I can tell, right then, that there’s no place else she’d rather be.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BY THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY WE’RE CRUISING through Missouri, just a few hours away from Arkansas. It took us longer than expected to get out of Chicago, Nine’s tricked-out ride not having a super-spy special feature to evaporate gridlock. At first I’m a little nervous with Sarah behind the wheel, the way she weaves between lanes and seems to tailgate every chance she gets, until I realize that all the other drivers are doing it too. I guess that’s just part of big-city driving.

  With Chicago behind us, the highway opens up. There’s nothing but grain fields on either side of us. We zip past semitrucks as they rumble along, making good time now, not even having to use the nitrous Sandor installed. The last thing in the world we need is to be pulled over. I bet I’m still red flagged in most government databases, not that any of us even has a license for a highway patrolman to run, which is another potential problem in and of itself. When we make it back to Chicago, I need to see if Sandor left any forgery material around. We need some new fake IDs.

  “You ever try turning a whole car invisible?” Sarah asks Six, who hasn’t said much since we set out. She lounges in the backseat with Bernie Kosar in her lap. “I mean, you are touching it.”

  “Huh,” Six replies, sitting up. “Never tried it.”

  “Don’t,” I say, maybe a bit too sharply. “Someone could crash right into us.”

  “Thanks, John. If you hadn’t said anything, I probably would’ve just turned us invisible here in public, while we’re flying along at like seventy miles per hour. Good thing you’re here to keep me in check and Sarah from driving too fast.”

  I open my mouth for a comeback, something about how Six is a bit of a loose cannon and I can’t predict what she might do next—like invite my girlfriend along on a dangerous mission—but think better of it when I notice Sarah looking at me. Her eyebrow is raised, like she’s confused by Six’s tone. She’s probably been picking up on the bad vibes between Six and me since we left Chicago. It’s definitely not something I want to try explaining, so I just shrug, brushing the whole thing off.

  Six is right that I’ve been obsessively checking our speed. Every time Sarah’s foot gets heavy on the gas, I tap her gently on the leg. She slows down and looks at me apologetically, like it’s not her fault, the car just begs to be driven fast. Maybe I shouldn’t be so anal and just let her race down the highway, consequences be damned. That’s probably what Six or Nine would do.

  Every moment, I’m dreading the feeling of a new scar burning itself into the flesh of my leg. What if the Mogadorians get to Five before we do, all because I wouldn’t let Sarah floor it?

  These are the kinds of thoughts that I’ve been losing sleep over the last few nights—not specifically about Five, but on leading our group in general. There’s just no way to plan for every eventuality, no matter how hard I think things over. It’d be so much easier if I had an attitude like Nine’s where I could just go out and hit things.

  And to top it off, there’s suddenly this drama with Six. All because of one stupid kiss.

  Basically, there’s no aspect of my life right now where I don’t feel in over my head.

  We end up stopping at a gas station in Missouri. Six busies herself pumping the gas. Bernie Kosar ambles around the parking lot, sniffing the pavement and stretching his legs. Sarah and I head towards the store to pick up some bottles of water and pay for the gas. About halfway across the parking lot, she stops abruptly.

  “So,” she says, “maybe you should go talk with Six.”

  I blink at her, taken aback. I glance behind us at Six. If it was possible for someone to pump gas angrily, she’d be doing it. The way she jams the nozzle into the gas tank, it’s like she’s stabbing a Mogadorian. “Why?”

  “You two are obviously mad at each other about something,” Sarah says. “Go work it out.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I just stand there awkwardly. I can’t tell Sarah what Six and I are arguing about because, first of all, I’m not even entirely sure and, second of all, it sort of involves our relationship. I really don’t want to get into all this right now; especially not when we have more important things we should be worried about.

  Sarah is unmoved by my silent protest, smiling slightly as she shoos me back towards Six. “Come on, you two need to be able to work together.”

  She’s right, of course. We can’t have whatever weirdness that exists between me and Six bog down this mission.

  Six watches me approach through narrowed eyes. She jams the fuel pump back into its home with way more force than necessary. We stand looking at each other from opposite sides of the car.

  “We should talk,” I say.

  “Sarah made you come over here, didn’t she?”


  “Look, I know you don’t really like her—”

  “That’s just it, John,” she interrupts. “I do like Sarah. And she loves you.”

  I stare at Six, trying to sort this out. “All right, I get that you’re mad at me because we haven’t really talked about everything since going to Chicago. With Sarah around it just seemed . . . weird.”

  “John, I’m not mad at you because we kissed and now you’re back with your girlfriend. I thought I liked you, John. You know, as more than a friend. But then I got dumped in that cell with Sarah and saw the way she talked about you. And now every day I see the two of you together. Whatever was between us back when we were on the run, it’s not like what you and Sarah have. Watching the two of you is almost enough to make me believe Henri’s crap about Loric only falling in love once.”

  I nod, agreeing with Six. What she’s saying is definitely true, but how am I supposed to respond? Yeah, you’re right, I totally like Sarah better than you? It’s probably better if I just keep my mouth shut.

  “I guess,” Six continues, “I feel shitty for kissing you while you were supposed to be with Sarah.”

  “In our defense,” I say, “we did think she’d sold us out to the government.”

  “It was also our first time meeting other Garde. Once that excitement was over, you were always waiting to go back to Sarah, huh?”

  “It wasn’t like that at all, Six. I wasn’t thinking ahead, or biding my time, or whatever.” My mind drifts back to that moonlit walk Six and I took, holding hands so we could be invisible. “When we were together, I’m not sure I’d ever felt so comfortable with another person before. Like I could just be myself.”

  For a moment, Six’s hard voice turns almost wistful. “Yeah, me too.”

  “But it’s different with Sarah,” I say, gently. “I love her. I’m more sure of that now than ever before.”

  Six claps her hands as if the matter is settled. “Good. So, let’s forget about it. You and I are just friends, and you and Sarah are the happy couple. I’m cool with that. All this love triangle crap makes me want to barf.”

  “Six . . . ,” I start, not really sure what to say. It almost feels like she’s letting me off the hook here, or trying to push me away.

  “No, listen,” Six says, cutting me off. “I’m sorry I got into your business with Sarah. Whether or not you want to tell her about us kissing is your thing. I don’t care. I just . . .” She glances over to the gas station, where Sarah is finally emerging. “When I got tossed in that cell with her, the way she talked about you—she’s given up so much to be with you, John. She’s basically betting her life on you. Maybe I’m being nosy and it isn’t my place, but I just want to make sure you’re up for that.”

  “I’m trying to be,” I say to Six, and turn to watch Sarah approach. What Six said rings true. I know Sarah has given up a normal life to be here with me, facing danger. I love her, but I haven’t figured out how to strike the right balance between keeping her safe and letting her be involved in my chaotic life. I might never figure that out. Right now, it’s enough that she’s here with me.

  Six calls for Bernie Kosar and they get back into the car. Sarah stops in front of me, her eyebrows raised.

  “Everything cool?”

  I have the sudden urge to wrap her in a hug, so I do. She makes a surprised little noise and I kiss her on the cheek. She squeezes me back.

  “Everything’s cool,” I say.

  I take over driving when we leave the gas station. BK crawls into Sarah’s lap and paws at the window until she rolls it down. The car floods with cool spring air. BK hangs his head out the window, his beagle tongue lolling out of his mouth. I guess Chimæra or dog, it still feels good to have the wind hitting your face as you cruise down a highway.

  The fresh air feels pretty good to me too. I don’t know if everything will ever be squared away between Six and me, but I feel better after our talk. At least I know where I stand now. The mood in the car has changed; there’s not as much tension hanging between the three of us. I relax a little, leaning back in my seat, watching the mile markers skip by.

  Sarah gently taps my leg. “Too fast.”

  I smile guiltily and slow down. Sarah has her arm out the window, her hand flat as she lets it surf across the currents of wind. Her blond hair is blown about her face wildly. She looks beautiful. For a moment, I pretend that it’s just the two of us and we’re on a road trip to someplace fun and normal. I still believe that could happen for us one day. If I didn’t, there’d be no reason to keep fighting.

  Sarah meets my eyes and I swear she must read my mind. She rests her hand on my leg.

  “I know we’re on a serious mission here,” Sarah says, “but what if we were just taking a regular road trip, like normal people? Where would you go?”

  “Hmm,” I reply, thinking it over. My fantasy with Sarah and myself didn’t really have a destination. It was enough just to be in a car with her. “So many options . . .”

  Before I can decide, Six leans forward from the backseat. “I didn’t really get to see much of it when we were there because of all the running and fighting, but Spain looked pretty interesting.”

  Sarah grins. “I’ve always wanted to go to Europe. My parents backpacked there after college. It’s how they met.”

  “So Europe is your answer too?” I ask Sarah.

  “Yeah,” she replies. “There are still places I’d like to see in America, I guess. Getting locked up by the government has kinda soured me, though.”

  “That is a drawback,” I agree, chuckling.

  Sarah turns around in her seat to look at Six. “We could go to Europe together. Um, if you’re not too busy restoring your planet and all.”

  Sarah’s so enthusiastic that Six can’t help but smile back. “That could be fun.”

  “That’s where I’d like to go,” I tell Sarah, putting my hand over hers.

  “Europe?”

  “Lorien.”

  “Oh,” Sarah replies, a note of sadness in her voice surprising me. I try to explain.

  “I’d like to show you Lorien the way I’ve seen it in my visions, the way Henri used to describe it to me.”

  I catch Six rolling her eyes at me in the rearview mirror. “That’s not really the game,” she says. “Pick someplace that you could actually get to without building a spaceship.”

  I think it over for a moment. “I don’t know. Disney World?”

  Six and Sarah both exchange a look and then start laughing.

  “Disney World?” exclaims Six. “You’re so cheesy, John.”

  “No, it’s sweet,” says Sarah, patting my hand. “It’s the most magical place on Earth.”

  “You know, I’ve never actually been on a roller coaster. Henri wasn’t down with the whole amusement-park thing. I used to see the commercials and I always wanted to go.”

  “That’s so sad!” exclaims Sarah. “We’re definitely going to get you to Disney World. Or at least on a roller coaster. They’re amazing.”

  Six snaps her fingers. “What’s that one ride? It’s supposed to be like a rocket ship?”

  “Space Mountain,” answers Sarah.

  “Yeah,” replies Six, and then hesitates as if she’s worried she’s about to divulge too much. “I actually remember looking that up online when I was little. I insisted to Katarina that it had something to do with us.”

  The thought of a young Six investigating Disney World is priceless. The three of us share a laugh.

  “Aliens,” mutters Sarah jokingly. “You need to get out more.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NIGHT HAS FALLEN BY THE TIME WE CROSS THE Arkansas state line. Luckily, we know exactly where we’re going. The billboards started popping up about twenty miles back, the huge and hairy face of the Boggy Creek Monster inviting us to visit Fouke’s one-and-only Monster Mart. We’re close now, and the tree-lined highway is pretty desolate, so I break my own rule and really start gunning it.

  Sarah peers
out her window, craning her neck at one of the faded Monster Mart signs.

  “Just a couple more miles,” she says quietly.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, sensing some apprehension in her voice.

  “I hope so,” she says.

  I pull the car over just before the exit for Fouke. This isn’t exactly a thriving tourist destination. More like the kind of dinky small-town thing that bored traveling families will stop off at to snap a few pictures and get a bathroom break.

  “Probably a good idea to go on foot from here,” I say, glancing at Six. “We’ll want to be invisible.”

  Six nods. “Agreed.”

  We pile out of the car and into the dark woods that separate the highway from the town. Bernie Kosar briefly stretches his legs before taking on the form of a sparrow. He lands on my shoulder, awaiting instructions.

  “Scout ahead, BK,” I say. “See what’s up there.”

  As BK soars off into the night, the three of us ready ourselves. I snap my bracelet onto my wrist; I certainly haven’t missed the painful tingling feeling I get whenever I wear it, but I’ll definitely feel safer with it on. I tuck my dagger into the back of my pants. Watching me, Sarah takes her gun out of her backpack and shoves it into the waistband of her jeans as well. All those road-trip fantasies of a couple hours ago are gone. It’s time for action. We start into the woods, the dim lights of Fouke about a mile away through the trees. Sarah grabs hold of my arm.

  “Do you think we’ll see the Boggy Creek Monster?” she asks, widening her eyes in mock terror. “From the pictures, it looks a lot like Bigfoot. Maybe we can make friends.”

  Six warily scans the woods around us. “Some dumb folk legend isn’t the monster I’m worried about running into.”

  “Besides,” I add, trying to keep things light for Sarah’s benefit, “who needs a sasquatch when we’ve got Nine waiting for us back in Chicago?”

  Like Six, I’m also searching the woods for any sign of Mogadorian ambush. It’s eerily quiet out here, the dead branches that crunch beneath our feet sounding like fireworks. I hope that we’ve beaten the Mogs to Five’s location, that they weren’t as quick to figure out his weird riddle as we were. The fact that there isn’t a new scar on my ankle and that the small town up ahead doesn’t appear to be engulfed by flames from a recent battle are both really good signs. Still, we have to stay on our guard. There’s no telling what might be waiting for us up ahead.