CHAPTER SEVEN
"Are you nearly done?" Mackenzie asked impatiently.
"Relax," Ethan grinned, not looking up from the precision tools he was using in the joints of Mackenzie's bionic hand. "You'll get it back when it's ready."
Mackenzie pouted comically and sat back on the bench next to where Ethan was working, letting her feet dangle in the air.
They were inside the shop at Ethan's small workstation where he used to carry out his daily tasks of repairing and building equipment. He sat on a stool as he worked on Mackenzie's hand, wearing a pair of strange goggles, though it had only one lens, making Ethan look like some strange futuristic pirate. Ethan would occasionally twist a dial around the lens, magnifying his vision so as to more closely see the tiny components he was repairing.
Around them, the shop was alive with activity. The shop was a large warehouse, just one open room that could fit the hundred or so workers within, as well as all their machinery. All the tech-heads, or engineers as they generally preferred to be called, were working on numerous jobs, shouting out for tools they needed for some large piece of machinery or quietly working alone on smaller equipment. Sparks flew almost everywhere Mackenzie looked as tech-heads welded metals, used 3D printers, worked on circuit boards, creating all sorts of things for which Mackenzie barely spared a thought for how they were made.
Bringing her attention back to Ethan and her hand, Mackenzie unconsciously rubbed the stump at the end of her left arm. She'd only had the bionic hand for a few days, but it already felt like a part of her. Handing it over to Ethan to repair had felt like... well, exactly like removing a hand!
"Okay," Ethan finally said, sitting up straight and removing his magnifying goggles. "Here, test the mobility. I want to make sure it's perfect before we head out."
Mackenzie snatched up the hand and quickly placed it at the end of her arm, pressing the button on the side so the gel form wrapped snugly around her forearm. She tried to move the fingers and was overjoyed to see them wiggling away.
"All good?" Ethan asked.
Mackenzie, using the bionic hand, gave Ethan a thumbs up, grinning.
"All good, chief," she replied happily.
Ethan nodded his approval, but still took the hand to take a look at it. Mackenzie sat still on the bench, moving her fingers and twisting her wrist so Ethan could see they were fine.
"You didn't clean it," Ethan noted, glancing up at Mackenzie with a disapproving look.
"Oh yeah," Mackenzie realized, remembering Ethan suggesting she do that last night. "I forgot. I, erm... I had a fight with Dad. I guess it slipped my mind."
Ethan looked like he wanted to ask a follow-up question, but thought better of it. Mackenzie figured he knew what the argument was about, anyway. Joseph had made his thoughts about Mackenzie joining the Diviners pretty clear yesterday.
Instead of asking about the fight, Ethan leaned to his side and opened a drawer under the workbench. He pulled out a folded piece of cloth and held it out for Mackenzie to take.
"Here," he said. "If you won't clean it, at least you can protect it."
Mackenzie took the piece of cloth and unfolded it. Her forehead creased with confusion when she saw what she was holding.
"A glove?" she asked.
"Yeah," Ethan replied. "But not just any glove. That's a special glove we use here in the shop. It's a resistant carbon-fibre poly-steel. We work with a lot of heat and sharp tools in here, so the gloves protect our hands from injury. Here, look."
Ethan took the glove back and slipped it onto his own hand. While Mackenzie watched curiously, he placed his gloved hand flat on the table, fingers spread. Then he picked up a blowtorch from the end of the bench and ignited it, lowering the blue flame toward his hand.
"What are you-STOP!" Mackenzie shrieked as Ethan touched the flame to his hand.
Ethan, however, was smirking as he passed the flame over his hand and fingers a few times, the intense fire licking over the glove and scorching the bench surface around his hand. Ethan then put out the blowtorch and set it aside. He raised the hand he had just torched and removed the glove.
Mackenzie stared in amazement at Ethan's perfect, undamaged, hand. He turned it around for her to see and there were no burn marks of any kind on his skin. The bench had been burned black in patches where the fire had touched it, but Ethan's hand was perfectly fine.
"How the hell did you do that?" Mackenzie asked in wonder.
"Like I said," Ethan began, amused by Mackenzie's expression as he handed her back the glove. "It's a resistant carbon-fibre poly-steel. It's resistant to fire, you can't cut through it with anything short of a laser, and it can even stop a direct strike from a blade. As long as you wear this, that hand will be better preserved than the rest of you."
Mackenzie slipped the black glove over her bionic hand and studied it. Now that she was looking closely at it, it wasn't a cloth material at all. It looked like it was made of minuscule mesh wire, crossing over and over thousands of times to create a seamless glove. Touching it with her other hand, Mackenzie felt that the strange metal was neither hot nor cold, rather matching the temperature of the room.
"Did you make this, too?" Mackenzie asked Ethan.
"Ha! No," Ethan laughed, shaking his head. "These were around long before I got here, before I was even born. They were stocked on the Panspermia before the evacuation. There's a big stockpile, but we're not really supposed to just hand them over to anyone outside of the shop because Icarus doesn't have the materials to make more. I can't pronounce the stuff its made of, but it's a manmade element, created in super advanced factories on Earth, apparently. If we ever run out of them, that's it. So if anyone asks, it's just a glove, okay? I don't need you getting me into more trouble."
"When have I ever gotten you into trouble?" Mackenzie asked, grinning cheekily.
"Hmm, I don't know," Ethan replied sarcastically, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "What about the time you dared me to walk twenty steps out of Town?"
"We were ten years old!" Mackenzie laughed. "And you weren't supposed to actually do it!"
"Yeah, well, my mom thought a monster was going to get me. She was pretty mad at me when she saw what I was doing." Then, shivering dramatically, he added, "I sometimes still hear her yelling in my nightmares."
Mackenzie laughed. "I could hear her from my house!"
"Right, but seriously, don't tell anyone about the glove," Ethan said, turning serious once more.
"Promise," Mackenzie said, crossing her heart with her bionic hand. Then, shoving Ethan's shoulder playfully, said, "Now come on, nerd. We gotta get back to Vasseur."
The rest of the day was less exciting than the morning had been. Vasseur led Mackenzie and Ethan into the town hall to listen to a longwinded lecture from Abbas about harsh environment survival techniques, including how to start a fire with objects from your surroundings, how to signal for help when lost, how to tell which direction you were going by the stars, stuff like that. Following the lecture, Ethan and Mackenzie had to demonstrate how much knowledge they had retained by putting the skills to use. Abbas had them start a fire each with whatever they could find in the immediate environment. Ethan seemed to struggle with this a little, not being allowed to use any tools or devices made by human hands. He was scowling in barely contained frustration as he tried furiously to start a small fire with some cloth and a pair of flint stones.
Mackenzie seemed to excel at the task, however. She used a similar method to what Ethan was trying, but also added a few locks of her own hair to help catch the spark of the flint. When she had a tiny fire burning, she added small chips of wood from a nearby spectre tree (which was a local type of plant life, ghostly white and little more than a log sticking out of the ground, standing no taller than an average sized adult male). Abbas nodded his approval at Mackenzie's fire, then stepped away to watch Ethan's progress until he eventually succeeded.
After survival training, Jesse Greaves took them to track animals
. They weren't to hunt any of them, just track and report. Jesse spent some time showing them what to look out for when tracking animals, as well as how to identify what you're tracking by just its footprints or faeces. Then he stood back and observed as Mackenzie and Ethan worked together to identify and track a nearby animal.
"It's a gozard," Ethan said confidently as they kneeled over some markings in the dirt. "Look, the footprints are far apart. The stride is pretty long."
"Good," Jesse grunted. "What else?"
Mackenzie studied the footprints for a moment, at a loss for what else there could be to say about them.
"It was alone," Ethan said. "It must have wandered away from its herd."
"Yes," Jesse said, sounding unimpressed. "So what does that tell you?"
"Um," Ethan said, staring back down at the footprints.
"It's sick," Mackenzie realized aloud. She looked to Jesse for confirmation, but he simply nodded once at her, silently saying to go on.
Mackenzie was silent as she gathered her thoughts, then explained.
"Gozards are herd animals," she began. "They go their whole lives in the herd they were born in. They only leave the herd to die. Here, you can see it was dragging its feet. Its tail kicked up the dirt, too. It came out here to die."
"Right," Jesse nodded. "So, think you can find it?"
It didn't take long to track down the gozard. It was lying on its side about 40 yards away, at the bottom of a small hill, already dead.
It was a lizard the size of a great dane. It had four legs that came straight down from its body, unlike the gaper's legs, which came out at its sides. The gozard had rust-colored scales that ran down the length of its head, back, legs, and tail, while its underbelly was covered in thick brown skin.
On its head, three horns grew and curled back, much like a goat's horns. Mackenzie knew that gozard males were the only ones with horns and often competed for the attention of the females by charging rocks with such speed and power, the stones would break. The strongest gozard had first pick of the females in the herd. It was this practice that made it impossible to contain a gozard herd in Town. They would always break down fences during mating season.
Its mouth was possibly the strangest sight, though. Even though the gozard was dead, and the mouth hung open slightly, Mackenzie was fascinated. The gozard had a long, narrow, snout, much like an aardvark or echidna, and a long tongue that could flick out with the speed and accuracy of a chameleon's. The snout was roughly a foot long, and the tongue could extend up to a further four feet, allowing the gozard to easily reach the ground to search for food. Gozards ate small insects and arachnids that they found hiding under the desert floor, scooping them out of the dirt and sand with their quick tongues.
"Poor guy," Mackenzie said, studying the creature. "What do you think killed him?"
"Age, most likely," Jesse replied. "See how the horns are flaking around the skull? I'd say it was probably 12 or 13 years old. Not bad for a gozard."
"Should we take the meat or something?" Ethan asked, sounding like he'd actually rather not.
"Wouldn't advise it," Jesse said, frowning. "It could have diseases or something by the look of it. Better to just leave it here. Besides, the sun's starting to come down. If you think it's dangerous out here in the day, then you really don't want to be out here at night. Come on."
After several more hours of gruelling work and mind-numbing lectures, Mackenzie was so exhausted she was barely able to manage the walk home. Ethan was equally wiped out, barely saying a word as he walked with Mackenzie, which was fine with her. She doubted she had the energy to formulate a response that extended beyond the dialect of grunts and nods.
All Mackenzie wanted to do when she walked in the door was go straight to bed. She was too tired to even think about food. To her dismay, however, her parents were waiting to speak with her.
"Can't it wait?" Mackenzie groaned. "I'm so tired. Just let me sleep and I'll let you lecture me in the morning, okay?"
"We're not going to lecture you, Mackenzie," Lorelei said. "We want to apologize."
This statement woke Mackenzie up slightly. "What for?" she asked.
"For trying to hold you back," Joseph replied, sighing heavily as he sat at the table. "We were talking about what you said last night, about how we need to let you try something, and we realized that we'd spent your whole life telling you what to do. How to act, where to work, what to study, all because... well, you were right about that, too. Because we worried that, because of your physical limitations, you might struggle in certain areas. We wanted to protect you from that kind of life, make things easy for you."
"But we know we can't do that anymore," Lorelei added. "You're a grown woman, now. You can make your own decisions. And if the Diviners do decide to take you with them tomorrow, you have my full support."
"Mine, too," Joseph added, smiling but still looking worried.
Mackenzie didn't know what to say. She'd been angry with her parents since they ganged up on her last night, but it seemed that she'd gotten her message through to them. Lost for words, Mackenzie simply hugged her parents tightly, then excused herself to go to bed at last. She was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
Something woke Mackenzie, but she didn't know what. She sat up in bed and looked around, rubbing her eyes. She had been asleep for a few hours, the world outside her window nothing but a blanket of darkness. Mackenzie frowned and tried to sift through the fog on her mind to remember what had woken her.
It had been a dream. She had been walking through Town, but there was no one else around. She was completely alone. The buildings all still stood, but there was no movement. Mackenzie had been searching for the people, calling out to them, but she had no voice. No matter how hard she tried to shout, no sound could escape her lips.
Mackenzie had then rounded a corner and been filled with a complete sense of horror and despair. The town center was filled with bodies. They were all draped over each other, arms and legs tangled together, bodies facedown in the dirt or held in the arms of a loved one. All the bodies looked somewhat decayed, like they had been dried out. Mackenzie could recognize faces in the mass grave; her parents, Ethan, neighbors, friends, colleagues. She even saw Jesse Greaves and the other Diviners, all staring at her accusingly. As though their deaths had been her fault.
That had been what woke her. A nightmare in which everyone she knew and loved was dead, all because she had been unable to stop it from happening.
Now wide awake, Mackenzie swung her legs out of bed and sat up. She stared into the darkness of her room, trying to ignore the twisting feeling of worry in her stomach.
This was the last chance humanity had. If the Diviners couldn't find a new water source this time, that was it. The human race was over.
The weight of what she had started by adding her own name to that list began to suddenly feel crushing. This wasn't just about doing something that made Mackenzie feel good about herself, the fate of the entire human race depended solely on how well the Diviners did their job. Mackenzie felt a sense of panic suddenly gripping her as she imagined Vasseur picking her as the new Diviner. What if she wasn't good enough? What if she made a mistake? What if she wasn't able to find a new water source? These thoughts, and countless other concerns, raced around her head like a swarm of angry hornets, buzzing incessantly at her.
"Don't think I'll be sleeping now," Mackenzie muttered as she rubbed a knuckle into her eyes.
An overwhelming urge to do something came over Mackenzie. Just sitting in her bedroom suddenly wasn't an option worth considering. She felt too wired, too on edge, after her dream. As Mackenzie dressed, she found herself thinking about the well. That precious resource that the town could not survive without. How its contents were close to running dry. Exactly how long did they have? Mackenzie had given her estimate the other day, but she needed to know for sure what was there, how long they had. That way, if she did somehow make the cut to become a
Diviner, she'd have that up to date knowledge to work with. She'd have a precise deadline.
Only a few minutes later, Mackenzie silently slipped out into the night and was heading for the well in the center of Town.
Her mind was racing, wondering about the depth of the well, how tight they could ration before the Diviners could find a new water source. Then there was the matter of how much water they would need to take with them when (or if) they found a new area to live. They could drain the well and carry the water with them easy enough, but how much would they need to keep everyone alive for the journey?
Depends how far we have to go, Mackenzie thought apprehensively.
Odds were that people would die during the move. It usually happened. Mackenzie remembered the last time they moved, when she was twelve years old. A few of the older people had died, despite everyone's best efforts. Then, heartbreakingly, a couple of children had died, too. Mackenzie had cried herself to sleep for days when she heard.
The Diviners had a lot of pressure on them this time. Not only did they have limited time to find a new water source before the current one ran out, but they had to make absolutely sure they returned to Town before the water supply was too low to support the relocation. There were small pockets of water to be found in the wild, but enough to support the hundred thousand or so people living in Town? Never.
Mackenzie was so caught up in her thoughts and worries that she didn't immediately notice the two shadowy figures ahead of her.
When Mackenzie realized there were people walking the same direction as her, a few yards ahead, she froze. Then she realized how reckless she had been. Even though everyone in Town worked together to keep each other alive, it was still a compact area with a large number of people. Crimes were punished severely, but that didn't mean people didn't still do stupid things. Night-time was dangerous in certain areas. Mackenzie didn't know who these people were, but if they were out this late, they most likely weren't the kind of people she wanted to cross paths with.
Mackenzie was about to turn around and head home when she suddenly caught a snippet of conversation on the breeze.
"...take what we can carry."
"What about the guards?"
"They change shifts soon, there'll be a section of the fence left unguarded during the switch. We'll have a few minutes where no LEOs will be around. But we gotta be fast if we want the water."
Mackenzie stiffened at the mention of water. It sounded as though these people were planning on stealing from the well. They were prioritising their own lives over everyone else's.
Realizing that she was standing in the open, Mackenzie quickly moved into the shadows of the neighboring shacks. Crouching behind the corner of one building, Mackenzie watched the two figures moving in a beeline towards the small warehouse that contained the well and purification machinery. There was a tall, wire fence surrounding the building, the top of which was covered in sharp barbed wire. Looking around, Mackenzie saw that the LEOs who were supposed to be patrolling the area were gone. The potential thief was right. The LEOs were in the middle of a shift change, their replacements not yet having made their way around the perimeter. As she watched, the two figures approached the fence cautiously. One pressed a tool that Mackenzie couldn't quite see in the dark against the fence, and a moment later Mackenzie heard the sound of breaking steel. They were cutting through the fence with a bolt cutter.
"Hey!"
A new voice shouted out right behind Mackenzie and she felt strong hands grab her hair and yank her to her feet. She cried out once as the sharp pain pierced her scalp, then tried to reach the hands that had grabbed her. She flailed her arms and kicked, but the one who had grabbed her quickly locked her arms in a vicelike grip behind her back, then began dragging her out from her hiding place, her attempts to struggle free nothing more than wasted energy.
"You idiots!" the one holding Mackenzie snapped at the two by the fence. "You let this bitch follow you! Do you know who she is?"
The two men by the fence turned, staring in shock at Mackenzie. They both looked fairly young, one in his late teens, the other no older than thirteen. They both looked fairly similar, with the same narrow jaw and dark hair. Mackenzie suspected they were brothers, so alike they seemed.
"Norman, what-" the youngest one began.
"Shut up!" the one holding Mackenzie hissed, shaking her roughly as she struggled again. "Don't say my name!"
"Norman?" Mackenzie repeated. Then she turned her head to try and see who was holding her, already suspecting who it was.
Under the light of the moon, and at such a close distance, Mackenzie could clearly make out Norman Ackles, scowling between her and what must have been his two brothers.
"Shut up," Ackles snapped at her. "Stay quiet and we won't hurt you."
"Seriously?" Mackenzie asked, incredulously. "This is the first time you've said more than a single word to me and it's to make a lame threat like that? Who's gonna hurt me? The kid? He looks like he's about to hurl!"
The youngest Ackles did indeed look ill with worry. He seemed as though this development made him want to be anywhere else.
"What do we do?" the other brother asked, his eyes wide. "She's seen us! She knows who we are! She'll tell her dad! We'll be banished for sure!"
"No, we won't," Ackles replied firmly. He let go of Mackenzie's arms and shoved her forward so that she was standing in the center of the three brothers, surrounded on all sides. "Because Miller won't tell on us, will you?"
Mackenzie wondered if she should just run for it. The brothers were close on all sides, but she figured she could knock the youngest one down. Then again, he was the one holding the bolt cutters. He might be smaller than Mackenzie, but a good swing with those would still do a lot of damage.
"If you leave now, I won't say anything," Mackenzie said firmly, trying to sound braver than she felt. She didn't like the look in Ackles' eyes. "Go home, don't steal anything, and I'll pretend this never happened."
"We should go," the youngest boy said, looking between his brothers. "Norm? Frankie? Come on, let's go."
"We can't, Aaron," the one named Frankie replied. "Norm told us we'll all be out of water in just a few weeks. We need to make sure we can survive."
"That's what rationing is for!" Mackenzie snapped. "Are you all really going to let other people die just so you can survive an extra few weeks?"
Aaron and Frankie looked nervously between one another, fidgeting with discomfort as they considered this.
"Besides," Mackenzie added, "the Diviners are going to find a new water source. They head out tomorrow, they'll-"
"Bull," Ackles spat. "There's nothing left out there. They should have found water in the last year they've been looking, but nothing. Because there's no water left to find! This is the only option we got, and you're gonna keep your bitch mouth shut about it."
"The second you leave, I'm waking my dad," Mackenzie said firmly. "Then you can explain it to him."
Ackles' hand moved faster than Mackenzie could react. Ackles drove his fist into Mackenzie's stomach with such force she doubled over and all the air was knocked from her lungs. She fell to her knees, clutching her stomach, trying to gasp in air, but only managing small, wheezy, sucking sounds. It was like trying to breathe through a straw.
"Norman!" Frankie cried out. "You can't hit a girl! What are you doing?"
"Shutting her up," Ackles growled.
Reaching over, Ackles snatched the bolt cutters out of Aaron's hand, and then raised it over his head, ready to swing it down on Mackenzie's skull with all his strength.
Mackenzie saw the iron tool swinging down towards her and she reacted solely on instinct. She reached up with her bionic hand and grabbed the bolt cutters before they could connect with her head and fracture her skull. Had she grabbed it with her real hand, then all she would have accomplished was having her hand shattered before she was beaten to death. The bionic hand, however, stopped the cutters dead, the soun
d of the iron hitting the steel of her hand clanging loudly.
Mackenzie then drew back her free hand and punched Ackles as hard as she could in the crotch. Ackles roared in pain and dropped the bolt cutters, staggering backwards and falling on his back.
Mackenzie forced herself onto her feet and turned to face Ackles' brothers, ready to fend them off if they tried to attack her too. Her caution was unnecessary though, because Frankie was simply staring between her and his older brother in shock, while Aaron had already taken off into the night, presumably straight for home.
Ignoring Frankie, Mackenzie turned back to face Ackles, wondering what to say or do now. As she turned, though, a fist flew out of nowhere and caught her hard in the cheek. Ackles had recovered from the blow and attacked Mackenzie with a powerful right-cross, which almost spun her completely around. Dazed and dizzy, Mackenzie fell back to the ground, too senseless to even try and stop herself from collapsing.
Ackles towered over her, panting heavily and cursing at her. "You bitch, think just because of who your dad is you can boss me around? I'm taking that water! You can't stop me!"
Mackenzie felt Ackles' boot drive hard into her ribs as he kicked her on the ground, again and again. Mackenzie curled up into a ball to try and protect herself, but Ackles just kept kicking. Frankie was shouting his brother's name, trying to make him stop, but Ackles was in a rage-driven frenzy. He wasn't going to stop until Mackenzie was dead.
Suddenly, someone flew out of the night and jumped into the air towards Ackles. He drove his legs out forward and, using the momentum he had gathered, kicked hard into Ackles' chest with both feet. Ackles was immediately knocked aside like he weighed little more than a rag doll, then crashed into the side of a nearby shack and fell to the ground.
The attacker rose to his feet and squared off with Ackles as he, too, stumbled to his feet, looking around with confusion as he tried to focus on the one who had struck him. Mackenzie looked up between her arms and saw who had appeared.
Jesse Greaves stood in the middle of the street, glaring at Ackles. He appeared calm, his arms at his sides and his breathing normal, but his eyes drilled into Ackles with a fury Mackenzie had never seen in anyone before. His eyes seemed to have darkened and were narrowed ever so slightly. Jesse didn't blink, keeping his gaze locked on Ackles like a cat would watch a cornered mouse.
Ackles either didn't recognize the danger in this look or he decided he didn't care. He charged at Jesse, roaring furiously as he swung a fist at Jesse's head.
Jesse dodged the attack easily, deftly stepping to the side to allow the punch to sail by harmlessly, while at the same time tripping Ackles with a well-placed kick to the ankle. Ackles soared by, falling before he knew it, then crashed back to the ground.
"Stay down," Jesse said calmly.
Ackles didn't listen, though. He pushed himself up, then turned on Jesse and swung another punch. Jesse leaned to the left and dodged it effortlessly. Ackles swung again, but still only hit air. Mackenzie watched as Ackles became a blur of swinging fists, but unable to land a single punch. Then Jesse seemed to become bored all of a sudden, because he drove an open hand into Ackles' throat, causing Ackles to freeze in shock, clutching at his neck as he tried to breathe through a closed windpipe.
Jesse then unleashed his fury on Ackles. In what seemed like only a split second, Jesse struck Ackles twice in the face, once in the body, brought Ackles down to a kneel with a swift kick to one knee, then struck him one last time with a powerful punch to the jaw. Mackenzie swore she could see two teeth fly out of Ackles' mouth, along with globules of blood and spit.
Ackles collapsed and groaned in pain, barely moving. His face was covered in blood and his nose looked to be broken in at least two places. His cheek had split open, as well as both his lips, and his eyes were unfocused as he looked around in a daze.
Jesse turned away from Ackles and glared at Frankie, who took a step back in fear, but Jesse didn't approach him. Instead, he pointed down at Ackles as he spoke.
"This your brother?" he demanded. When Frankie nodded fearfully, Jesse said, "Take him home. When he's fully conscious, tell him if he pulls anything like this again, he won't have to worry about banishment because I'll just shoot him myself. Now get the hell out of here."
Frankie hurried over to Ackles and struggled to pull him to his feet. When he finally managed, he hurried away as quickly as possible with Ackles' weight on his shoulders and Ackles' feet dragging behind him.
"You all right?" Jesse asked Mackenzie, his voice only softening slightly.
Mackenzie tried to stand, but grunted in pain. Jesse held out his hand to help her up. Mackenzie eyed it, as though suspicious, then slowly took Jesse's hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
"I'm okay," Mackenzie said, then grimaced as she felt the pain in her ribs where Ackles had been kicking her.
"Lift up your shirt," Jesse instructed her.
"Excuse me?" Mackenzie asked in shock.
"Relax," Jesse smirked. "I just need to see if he broke any ribs. Lift your shirt."
Still feeling awkward, Mackenzie lifted her shirt enough for Jesse to inspect her ribs. He placed his hands on Mackenzie's already bruising flesh and pressed gently, but firmly. Mackenzie flinched at his touch, but was unsure if it was because of the pain where he was feeling, or something else.
"Does that hurt?" Jesse asked her.
"It's fine," Mackenzie replied, trying to sound like it was no big deal.
Jesse glanced up at her from her ribs, his eyes narrowing. "You don't have to act like a bad ass to impress me, you know. If it hurts, tell me. If it was me getting kicked around like that, I'd be hurting. So, try again. Does it hurt?"
Grateful that it was too dark for Jesse to see her blush, Mackenzie replied, "Yeah, a little."
Jesse nodded once, then returned his attention to Mackenzie's ribs. He slowly prodded his way over her wounds, exploring with his fingers. Mackenzie held her breath, aware of how fast her heart was racing under Jesse's touch.
"Doesn't look like any ribs are broken," Jesse said without looking up. "You should be fine."
"Okay," Mackenzie replied, lowering her shirt as Jesse retracted his hands. "Erm... Thanks."
Jesse nodded, but didn't say anything else. Mackenzie felt awkward as they just stood together in the dark.
"So, what are you doing out so late?" Mackenzie asked, unable to take the silence any longer.
"Couldn't sleep," Jesse shrugged. "I'm more of a night person."
"Yeah, me too," Mackenzie said, then added, "Couldn't sleep, that is."
"Well, if you've had enough of getting your ass kicked for one night, maybe I can walk you home. Make sure no one else takes soccer practice on your kidneys."
Frowning at Jesse's snide remark, Mackenzie nodded and began walking towards home without a word. Jesse fell into step beside her.
"I don't need you to protect me, you know," Mackenzie blurted out.
Jesse nodded as though considering her point. "Yeah, I saw. I bet you were just wearing him down, right?"
"You make a lot of noise for someone who says nothing," Mackenzie replied sarcastically.
To Mackenzie's surprise, Jesse chuckled. Then he looked sideways at her and asked, "You don't think much of me, do you?"
Mackenzie wasn't sure how to respond. It wasn't the kind of question one usually expected to hear. After a moment of hesitation, Mackenzie managed to shrug.
"It's not that," Mackenzie said. "It's just... I don't know, you're kind of blunt, I guess."
"So are you," Jesse pointed out. "You tell it like it is and you're not afraid to go for what you want. I noticed that about you the day we met. You were intimidated by us, the Diviners. But you weren't afraid to call me out on the water issue. You told us exactly what we needed to hear, not what you thought we wanted to hear. Then there was that thing with putting your own name on the list."
"Hey, Vasseur didn't have to pick me!" Mackenzie start
ed, suddenly defensive, expecting Jesse to judge her for what she did.
Instead, though, Jesse was grinning. It was the first time Mackenzie had seen him smile with his teeth in a way that wasn't dismissive or belittling. The result was to make him appear younger, and far more appealing. Mackenzie stared at him as he smiled at her in amusement, wondering how long she could look before it got weird.
"I thought what you did was cool," Jesse said. "I mean, your dad was never going to add you to the list, anyone can see that. But you knew you wanted the chance. If more people did stuff like that, weren't afraid to put themselves out there for what they thought was the right thing to do, then maybe humanity would have a better shot. The second Vasseur called your name and your dad freaked, I knew what you did. I have to admit, I was a little impressed by how ballsy you were."
"Does that mean you think I'd make a good Diviner?" Mackenzie asked hopefully.
"No," Jesse frowned, breaking the illusion of being nice. "Not yet, anyway. As of right now, I think your friend, Renaud, would be a better fit."
"Oh," was all Mackenzie could think to say, unable to hide her bitterness from her tone.
"I'm surprised you want it so bad, though," Jesse said. "I'd have thought your dad would have scared you away from it. All the stuff he went through when he was a Diviner."
"You know about when he was a Diviner?" Mackenzie asked, surprised and a little annoyed. Not once in her whole life did Joseph ever tell her anything about his experiences as a Diviner, but Jesse Greaves knew? "He never told me anything about what it's like out there."
"Really?" Jesse asked, clearly surprised. "I figured he would have told you everything."
"No," Mackenzie said flatly. "He says he didn't want to traumatize me."
"You don't sound happy about it," Jesse observed.
"Of course not!" Mackenzie snapped. "He always treated me like I couldn't do anything, couldn't handle anything. But I can, and if I get picked to be the new Diviner tomorrow, I'll prove it to him."
"Is it really him you want to prove something to?" Jesse asked. "Or yourself?"
Mackenzie opened her mouth to reply, but then realized she didn't know the answer. She closed her mouth and looked away, feeling as though Jesse's eyes were seeing straight through her.
"I heard one story about your dad when I was new to the Diviners," Jesse suddenly began. "Inglis told me. Miller and Vasseur were on mission when they got caught in a sandstorm. Their whole crew was trapped. The truck was pretty much buried in sand and they had to try and make it back to Town on foot. Miles and miles of desert, dangerous animals, thirst, heat, there was so much that could have killed them. And it almost did. They were stuck out there for days with no food or water. The whole squad died, except Vasseur and your old man. Vasseur had a broken leg and nearly didn't make it, either, but your dad basically carried him for a hundred miles on his back. When they finally got back to Town, Vasseur and Miller were almost dead. That was the last time your dad went out in the field. Inglis told me he quit to be here for you, make sure you grew up safe."
"Yeah, Dad told me that was why, too," Mackenzie said quietly. "I didn't know about the rest of it, though. He never told me."
"Don't take it personal," Jesse shrugged. "The way Inglis told me, it sounds like Miller doesn't really tell anyone about what happened. It must have been bad, though."
Mackenzie walked silently beside Jesse as they made their way through the dark streets. She had a thousand thoughts churning around the inside of her head, not a single one making her feel any better. She felt a sense of pride thinking about how her father had saved Vasseur's life, but she also felt resentful that he had never told her anything about his time as a Diviner, but strangers like Jesse Greaves and the late Robert Inglis knew all about it.
"Were you and Inglis close?" Mackenzie suddenly asked Jesse.
Jesse was silent for a long time before replying, a distant look glazing over his eyes. Finally, he simply nodded.
"I'm sorry. How, er..." Mackenzie began awkwardly. "How did he die?"
Jesse abruptly stopped walking and Mackenzie had taken an extra step before she realized. Turning back, Mackenzie saw that a mask of indifference had fallen over Jesse's face. He seemed more closed off, less friendly, and far colder. He watched Mackenzie with slightly narrowed eyes, though Mackenzie wondered if they were really looking at her or if he was focusing on something else, something that she couldn't see in the here and now. When Jesse finally did speak, it was with a quiet growl.
"This you?" Jesse asked curtly.
"What?" Mackenzie asked, confused.
Jesse jerked his head towards the shack they were standing out front of. "You live here?"
Mackenzie looked towards her home, realizing with a start that she hadn't been paying any attention at all to where they were going. Turning her gaze back to Jesse, she said, "Oh, yeah, this is me."
Jesse nodded. "Well... good night then."
"Yeah, good-"
Mackenzie was about to say the same back to Jesse, but he was already turning on his heel and marching away into the night. Mackenzie felt a sudden urge to go after him, make sure he was all right, but he was gone before she could decide what to say.
Slowly heading inside, still hurting from the pain in her ribs and arms where Ackles had been kicking her, Mackenzie felt a chill when she thought about how Jesse's attitude had changed so dramatically when she asked about Inglis, changing instantly from somewhat pleasant to stoic and brooding. Without meaning to, Mackenzie began to wonder just what dangers lay out in the deserts.
Jesse had said yesterday that Inglis' body had been so ravaged, it wasn't worth bringing back. Joseph kept telling her how traumatic and terrifying the deserts were. Many Diviners had died over the years. So many so that there was now only one team of Diviners, whereas once there had been numerous, all searching at once. Over the years, though, and as the body count grew, fewer people were signing up.
It was enough to make Mackenzie wonder if maybe this whole thing had been a good idea.