CHAPTER 13

  Abby was crying soundlessly, her head bowed and her hair falling around her slender shoulders. I couldn't comfort her, not now, that job had fallen to Jenna. She had her arm around Abby's shoulders; her head was bent over Abby as she tried to ease her sorrow. It was impossible; we all knew that. Jenna herself was struggling with the likelihood she would never see her parents again. The only difference was Jenna hadn't received the cruel confirmation they were dead like we just had.

  Even Aiden had shed a few tears, he'd tried to keep them hidden from us, but I'd seen them. I hadn't cried. I was certain I wouldn't cry, not now, not in front of my siblings. Someone had to stay strong, and just like with my father, it would be me. I didn't meet Cade's gaze, I could feel it burning into my back but I wouldn't look at him. Bret kept his arm around me, seeking to give me comfort even though I didn't like it. He didn't seem to understand that though, and I'd given up shrugging his arm off. What was the point?

  "Why did the building collapse?" Abby moaned. "What caused it?"

  A muscle in my cheek jumped, my jaw ached from clenching it so tightly. I didn't know what had caused it, but whatever it was had had been big, it had been brutal, and it was going to come for us. Of that much I was certain. It would continue to hunt for survivors. It would be unrelenting and ruthless in its pursuit. It apparently hadn't known we were in the store, but I was certain if it got a bead on us, it wasn't going to stop in its determination to drain us dry.

  I closed my eyes, my hands fisted at my sides. Whatever the aliens were doing, whatever they were intent on accomplishing, they were really beginning to piss me off!

  "Bethany." I forced my eyes open. Bret was watching me with wide-eyed apprehension. "Are you ok?"

  I wanted to be a better person for him, to be the person he thought I was. I wanted to be kinder, more understanding, and more faithful. I wanted to show some sort of emotion, other than fury right now, but I couldn't. I hated to disappoint him, but I didn't know how to be anything different. I had tried to be a better person for him for the past few months, I truly had, but it was impossible for me. I thought if he understood me better things could be different between us, but he didn't, and they weren't.

  I knew he wouldn't want anything to do with the person I truly was, because he was just too good to understand that person. I was a survivor, I was a fighter, and I was hard. It was the first time I admitted that to myself, but it was true. I'd thought the death of my father had caused me to be this way, but I was beginning to realize I’d been wrong. Jenna had more than likely lost her family, yet she was comforting Abby. Bret had more than likely lost his parents and yet he was still caring and good.

  Yes, I had watched my father die. Yes, I had been young and defenseless. But we were defenseless now, and yet I still sensed more humanity in them than I did in myself. Perhaps it was shock but I didn't think so. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I be like them?

  For the first time I was able to look at Cade again. The duffel bag with the guns was slung over his shoulder, his hand rested against the strap. Cade was a wealth of mystery and confusion to me I wasn't sure I’d ever understand. Yet, as his compelling eyes landed upon me, I knew with unfailing certainty he understood me completely. He saw inside of me and knew what kind of person I was.

  He saw my many flaws, and for some strange reason he didn't mind them. He saw the depths of my imperfections, the intensity of my coldness, and he understood it. I was suddenly struck by the realization I didn't know what was worse. Being completely understood and accepted for my many defects, or constantly trying to prove I didn't have them.

  Was it better to be accepted for being an awful human being, or to have someone believe I was something better than I was?

  Cade's eyes narrowed, his head tilted to the side. Displeasure flashed across his features, his hand clenched on the strap around his chest. The beams of moonlight hit his onyx eyes nearly turning them blue. I had the disconcerting feeling he knew what I was thinking, or at least the direction of my thoughts, and he didn't like them.

  "Bethany?"

  "I'm fine," I responded as I turned my attention back to Bret.

  "Maybe we should stop."

  "We have to keep moving."

  "Keep moving where?" Jenna’s voice was faint and forlorn.

  "Somewhere." Though I had no idea where. I just knew we couldn't sit still. If we stopped we were sitting ducks.

  "Somewhere is not an answer!" she retorted. "We have to have somewhere to go; just roaming aimlessly around is doing nothing for any of us! We should find somewhere safe to hide!"

  "Since you know where all of those places are, why don't you just tell us where to go?" I snapped back.

  Jenna glared at me, her delicate jaw clenched as her teeth grated back and forth. "Ok, easy, we should probably come up with some kind of plan," Bret interjected calmly. "We have to find shelter."

  "I'm not going inside again," I responded at once.

  They all looked at me like I'd sprung another head, even Cade seemed somewhat taken aback. "Bethy..."

  "No Aiden. If you guys would like to find shelter that's fine, but there is no way I'm going inside again. Not right now anyway," I amended when I saw their distraught faces.

  "Well we have to find some place to hide!"

  Jenna's whining tone was grating on my last nerve. I understood she was frightened, but I'd never had a vast storage of patience (yet another fault of mine), and I found I had even less now. My nerve endings felt as if someone was constantly taking a match to them. I was hurt, I was frightened too, but most of all I was angry and she was enflaming that anger right now.

  "And we will." Cade touched Jenna's arm briefly, reassuringly. "But for now, we have to keep moving."

  "The old lighthouse, only teens go there anymore. It will be safe," Jenna said.

  "Nothing is safe anymore," Abby whispered.

  Jenna's lower lip trembled, her arm tightened around Abby's shoulder. "It will be safer than the woods."

  "You really believe a lighthouse, used to call in ships, set out on a Jetty that can be seen across the bay, is safer than the woods?" I asked incredulously.

  "I don't hear you coming up with any ideas!" she practically wailed.

  "Our old tree house."

  We all turned to Aiden. "What?" Bret asked.

  "Our old tree house," Aiden's brown eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Our old house is on Cranberry Isle, the area has been built up over the past few years, but it's still relatively private. Even more private is the tree house Bethy and I built with our father when we were younger..."

  "You intend for us to hide in a tree house?" Jenna nearly screeched.

  I sighed as I rolled my eyes. She was going to be the undoing of my temper, I was certain of it. "It's a little bit more than a tree house," Aiden told her.

  "I'm not dying in a tree house," Jenna retorted.

  "We spent a lot of time on it; it's more than a tree house," Aiden insisted. "It's actually pretty well equipped for a tree house."

  "We haven't been there in years Aiden, you can't possibly know what condition it's still in," I reminded him.

  He shifted uncomfortably. "I've been there recently."

  I started as my mouth parted. Aiden and I didn't tell each other everything, but we shared more, and were closer than most siblings. We looked out for, loved, and protected Abby, but the two of us were closer in age, bonded by more shared experiences, and truly liked each other now that we were older. Going to the tree house didn't sound like something Aiden would do, he wasn't a nostalgic person, and it definitely seemed like something he would have told me about.

  I didn't know if I was more stunned, or more upset, he hadn't. I didn't ask when, or why, and he didn't seem to feel like elaborating.

  "It will be a good place to hide out for a bit. We can come up with a better plan then."

  "Cranberry Isle is a good three miles away," Jenna grumbled.

  "Then we had better get moving," Bret s
aid as he slipped his hand into mine and squeezed it.