Darkness Follows

“You don’t have to wait,” Ingo said.

  “Yes, I do,” she said shortly.

  Silence descended. Greta was a pacer, it turned out. She walked up and down the short drive, peering along the forest road each time she reached it. Ingo and I stood propped against the auto. He let out a breath and rubbed his scar.

  “I hate it being so close, but not here yet,” he murmured.

  “I know,” I said. I tapped my cane on the ground, as restless as Greta. Ingo put his hand briefly over mine, halting the motion.

  “Stop that, please,” he said.

  “Sorry.” I twisted the cane from side to side instead.

  Ingo was in the tan trousers and white shirt he’d been wearing when I first woke up. They fitted him much better now; his belt was no longer on the lowest hole. I wore a plain skirt and sweater. Flat-soled shoes. Our battered suitcases held the other clothes the Resistance had found for us – and the photos that we’d taken from Gunnison’s bomb factory.

  I gazed blindly at my case, recalling the images…and my father’s despair the night before he died. Pain and a stonier emotion stirred within me. Soon, with luck, I’d have the answers I craved.

  There was something else in my case, too. I hadn’t told Ingo about it and I hoped he wouldn’t find out.

  He started to speak, then we both straightened abruptly as a sound floated to us through the trees.

  Autos. More than one.

  Greta came and stood with us. “All right, I think this is it,” she murmured.

  Their headlights swept through the dark trees as they approached: pure white beams angling through the black. The sound of the engines slowed.

  Two autos rocked into the drive, one after the other. I winced in the harsh glare of the headlights – and the night of my arrest flashed back. Sudden fear iced my spine. What if someone had betrayed us and this was a trap? I couldn’t run now.

  Ingo seemed to be thinking the same thing. He put his arm around my shoulders. “If anything happens, get behind me,” he whispered, watching the autos.

  My lips were dry. I could feel his tension. “I thought you weren’t noble,” I murmured back.

  His hand tightened on my shoulder. “I’m not, just stupid…shut up, can’t you?”

  The headlights switched off as the autos came to a stop, one with an inexpert lurch. Its driver burst out, slamming the door behind them. A figure came racing towards us in the moonlight, all long legs and pumping arms.

  “Amity!” called a familiar voice. “Amity!”

  My pulse leaped. I slowly straightened, staring.

  “Hal?” I whispered.

  My brother threw himself into my arms. My cane fell to the ground and pain rocked through me; I hardly noticed. With a gasp, I hugged him. He was taller than me now.

  “Hal! But how…”

  My question faded. All that mattered was holding onto him. I buried my face against his warm neck, smelling his familiar scent – the silkiness of his dark hair, so like mine.

  Finally we pulled apart. Hal’s cheeks were damp; he was grinning widely. “It’s you, it’s really you! Holy moley, I couldn’t believe it when I saw you – we didn’t know who we were coming for—” He glanced at Ingo then and faltered; from his expression I remembered how Ingo looked when you first saw him.

  I swallowed. “This is my friend Ingo. He escaped with me. Ingo, this is…this is my brother.” My voice caught on the word.

  Ingo must have hated the look that had flinched across Hal’s face. He didn’t show it. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, putting his hand out. “But I didn’t hear that you were with the Resistance.”

  Hal seemed to grow taller; I saw him push back his dread of Ingo as they shook. “I am,” he said. He wiped his cheeks and turned back to me. He shook his head with a wondering smile. “We thought you must be dead, Sis. But you escaped!”

  My brother’s face wasn’t a boy’s any more. Its lines were stark in the moonlight, his round cheeks gone. I licked my lips and nodded. “So did you.”

  He grinned and glanced back at the other auto. “Well, I had some help.”

  In a daze, I looked over at it too. The driver had gotten out but hadn’t moved towards us. He stood staring at me, his face frozen as if he were seeing a ghost.

  Collie.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I stood locked in place. As our eyes met, a tumult of emotions almost robbed me of speech. Dread – shock – a terrible longing. In a rush I remembered the feel of his arms around me, the taste of his lips.

  I had loved him so much. Maybe, despite everything, part of me still did.

  I shoved it all away and turned urgently to Greta. “It’s a trap – he’s with Gunnison!”

  Hal clutched my arm. “Amity, no! It’s all right, Collie helped me escape. He’s with the Resistance.”

  “Hal, listen to me—”

  “You listen! I know what he did, okay? He told me! But he really is with the Resistance.”

  “You know?” I said. I gave a trembling laugh and felt Ingo touch my back. “So you know he destroyed the evidence. You know he’s in cahoots with Gunnison. You know that he threw the Tier One fight that put you into hiding, and that he—”

  “Yes! So does the Resistance. They know everything and they trust him.”

  Collie looked pale even in the moonlight. He hesitated, then started over.

  I groped for my cane. Ingo grabbed it from the ground and handed it to me, gazing over at Collie. Our eyes met and I knew he was as unsure as I was.

  Collie reached us. He stood behind Hal and put his hands on his shoulders as if he needed someone to hang on to. I saw him swallow. His eyes never once left my face.

  “Amity,” he said.

  “Hold it right there,” said Greta. Her expression was taut, fearful. “You’re not Vince Griffin. Do you have anything to tell me?”

  Collie dragged his gaze from me. “It’s…it’s Greta, right?” he said. “I’m supposed to tell you that the show ran late and there was a lot of traffic.”

  Greta sagged. “He’s okay,” she said to me and Ingo.

  “You’re sure?” said Ingo sharply.

  “Griffin gave me that code himself, just this morning.”

  Hal touched my arm. “It’s true. I promise, Amity. It’s fine.”

  I started to answer and stopped. The world had turned upside down.

  “So what’s your plan?” Greta said to Collie. She stood jingling her auto keys. “Are you taking them back with you, or what?”

  Collie was still staring at me; a beat later, he apparently realized Greta had asked a question. He glanced at Ingo beside me. Recognition dawned. Collie and Ingo had met once, almost a year ago.

  “Manfred,” Collie said finally.

  Ingo returned his gaze levelly. “Reed.”

  “We were told someone has a message.”

  “Then you were also told the message is for Vince Griffin, and no one else.”

  Collie glanced at me again; he seemed to be trying to steady himself. “Yeah, fine,” he said, his voice rough. “Why don’t we…we’d better get moving then.”

  Greta let out a breath and took a step towards her auto. “The best of luck to you both,” she said to Ingo and me.

  Wait, I wanted to say. Things were moving too fast. But Greta hardly stayed long enough after that for Ingo and me to thank her for having sheltered us. A few moments later, the sound of her auto was fading away through the night.

  The four of us stood beside the abandoned house. Its windows were dark, lifeless eyes in the moonlight.

  Collie looked the same as always, that was the strange thing. He looked exactly the same.

  “Were you with the Resistance when I was arrested?” I asked in a low voice. “Were there people you were protecting? Is that why you—” I broke off.

  Collie’s eyes flew to mine. He was holding a set of auto keys. They made a scraping noise as his fist clenched.

  “No,” he said softly.

/>   “But he is now, Amity, and that’s what counts!” burst out Hal.

  Collie rubbed his forehead. “We should get going…we, um…” He trailed off. He looked at me again. When he spoke next, I almost didn’t hear him. “We were told you’d been recaptured,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Recaptured. Kay Pierce told us that they’d brought you in. We thought you’d been killed.”

  “That’s not true,” said Ingo. “We escaped over seven weeks ago. We’ve been on the run ever since.”

  Collie exhaled. “Right,” he said. He looked as if he was barely holding himself together. “What…what happened to your leg?” he asked me.

  “I was shot,” I said, and heard Hal suck in a quick breath.

  At Collie’s stricken look, I felt a fierce gladness. The sight of my cane hurt him? Good.

  “Are you all right?” Collie asked finally.

  “I’m alive,” I said. “No thanks to you.”

  He didn’t move for a long moment. His knuckles were white in the moonlight. “You’re right,” he said.

  I knew his face so well, but had never seen him look this hesitant, this unsure of himself.

  “We brought two autos,” he said finally. “We didn’t know if one of you might need to go somewhere else. Why don’t you and Manfred ride with Hal? You, um…you probably have a lot to catch up on.”

  The auto’s wheels hummed as Hal drove. I’d resisted the urge to ask my little brother if he knew what he was doing, and when I saw how carefully he concentrated – forehead creased slightly, hands on the wheel new-driver steady – I was glad.

  None of us had spoken since we’d pulled away from the old house. In the darkness ahead, the other auto was just visible.

  “When did you learn to drive?” I asked finally.

  “Collie taught me.” Hal glanced at me. He and I were in the front seat; Ingo had taken the back. I thought Hal was going to say something about Collie – then he nodded tensely at my cane.

  “So…what happened?”

  “A guard saw me,” I said, and was glad when he didn’t ask a guard of what.

  “Will you be all right?” Hal’s voice squeaked. He coughed and his tone came out deeper. “I mean…you won’t always have to use a cane?”

  I tried to smile. “I hope not. That would be kind of inconvenient.”

  “She flew a plane right after it happened,” Ingo said quietly. “Your sister’s tough. She’ll be all right.”

  Hal stared at me. “You did?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t enjoy it much. Concentrate on your driving.”

  “I am.” He looked forward again. We were still in a wooded area, though I could see lights in the distance through the trees. Hal signalled and slowed for a turn. His profile was older than I remembered, but still my brother.

  Keeping strong and well. I thought of the words underlined on a page that had gone soft with too much handling. My throat tightened.

  “How’s Ma?” I asked softly.

  Hal nodded. “She’s fine. She really is, Amity. Collie rescued her too. She’s in Nova Scotia, where it’s safer.”

  I frowned, rolling my cane between my palms. “What do you mean, ‘rescued’? What exactly happened?”

  “I mean rescued – what do you think? He came to Madame Josephine’s and got me the hell out of there.” Hal glanced back at Ingo in the rear-view mirror. “I, um…was found Discordant. I was in hiding in a closet for nine months.”

  “I know,” said Ingo.

  “You do?” My brother glanced at me.

  “He’s my friend, Hal. What happened?”

  He shrugged. “Collie had a Gun uniform and he came in and took me. At first I thought he really was a Gun and I couldn’t believe it. He had a Shadowcar. He took Ma too and drove us to their headquarters. Then he snuck us into his own auto and got us out.”

  When I didn’t respond, Hal looked at me. “He could have been killed, Amity. They’d have shot him on sight if they’d caught him escaping with prisoners.”

  “You’d have been shot too,” I said shortly. “Or worse.”

  Hal’s jaw took on an unfamiliar strong line. “Well, that’s a chance I was willing to take.”

  “At least you were safe in hiding.”

  “Being safe isn’t everything. And actually, no, I wasn’t. They’d already searched the house twice. They’d have found me before long.”

  My lips went dry. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” Hal shifted gears with a short, jerky motion. “Jo was terrified. So was Ma. I’d hear them whispering through the floorboards sometimes, trying to figure out where else I could go. And I was sitting down there surrounded by all these stupid books and model sets, thinking that if I had any guts I’d leave and put them both out of danger.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m very glad you didn’t.”

  “Well, I was about to,” Hal said flatly. “I’m almost fifteen – I’m supposed to be the man with Dad gone, not put Ma’s life at risk.”

  Ahead of us, the other auto slowed for a turn. So did we. The dark trees had given way to dark houses. We were in a suburban area, with Topeka still a distant glow on the horizon.

  “So you needed out and Collis rescued you,” said Ingo from the back seat. “I’m glad of it.”

  Hal’s hands relaxed a little on the wheel. “Yeah, he did,” he said, glancing at Ingo in the mirror. “And I’ll be grateful to him for as long as I live.” Hal hesitated, then added to me, “Listen…I know he’s done some really bad things, but he’s sorry. He’s trying to make up for it.”

  In my mind I saw again the evidence from Madeline’s office going up in flames: the only hope of millions of people. The words “trying to make up for it” couldn’t even begin to apply. Yet Collie had saved my family. And he’d had no idea that I’d ever know.

  My leg ached. So did my heart, and I hated Collie for it.

  Hal glanced at me again. He looked worried, and I stiffened, suddenly knowing what he was going to ask. “Amity, when you were…in that place…were you all right?”

  “It wasn’t much fun,” I said softly. “But we’re both okay now.”

  “How did you escape?”

  I didn’t want to talk about this. Harmony Five preyed on my thoughts too often as it was. I sighed. As quickly as possible, I described our escape to Hal.

  He fell silent for a long moment. “So I guess you’re pretty thankful to Rob,” he said.

  I laughed in surprise. “The boyfriend who taught me how to pick locks,” I explained to Ingo, and he smiled too.

  “I’m grateful to Rob,” he said. “I’ll buy Rob a drink if I ever meet him.”

  Hal shook his head, looking dazed. “Seriously,” he said to me. “That’s just…I’m kind of proud you’re my sister, you know that?”

  A mental image came: a wooden platform with a crescent moon shining above it – a terrified girl staring at a rifle. And myself not saying a word.

  “Thanks, but there wasn’t much to be proud of there,” I murmured.

  Hal’s troubled look as he studied me made him look disconcertingly like Dad. I nudged him and tried to smile. “Hey…why didn’t you go to Nova Scotia with Ma? I can’t imagine she was very happy about you staying here with the Resistance.”

  “No, she was all right,” said Hal. “She knew Collie would look out for me.”

  “It’s dangerous work, Hal.”

  “Gosh, really?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “This is my fight too,” he said. “I’m Discordant, remember?” He shrugged shoulders that were broader than I remembered. “And anyway, you can’t lecture me, Amity. You wouldn’t have gone at my age.”

  I wanted to argue with him but couldn’t. In the back seat Ingo had stretched out; his eyes were closed.

  “I think you know your sister very well,” he said drowsily.

  We turned onto a freeway. The road smoothed; the tyres whirred over them. Hal looked deep in thought. Fina
lly he glanced at me. “Amity, um…you know—” He stopped short and glanced at Ingo in the rear-view mirror, who’d fallen asleep several miles before.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “He’s a sound sleeper.”

  Hal stared at me, startled. “Are you two…”

  I shook my head. “We’ve just gotten to know each other pretty well, these last two months.” It seemed like an understatement. Ironic – I probably knew Ingo far better now than I’d known Collie in all the time Collie and I had been a couple.

  Hal glanced back at Ingo again. “What happened to his face?” he whispered.

  “His plane was sabotaged.”

  “Like you said yours was, during your trial?”

  I winced. “Did you see my trial?”

  “No, but Jo told me things. She didn’t want to. I kept asking.”

  “Yeah,” I said after a pause. “His plane was sabotaged in almost exactly the same way. Ingo wasn’t as lucky; he was knocked out and then hit by a burning piece of shrapnel.”

  Hal studied Ingo in the rear-view mirror again. “That’s…” He swallowed and didn’t complete the thought. “He seems like a good guy,” he said finally.

  “Hal, what were you going to ask me? It wasn’t about Ingo, was it?”

  “No, um…” My brother gave me a sideways look. “It’s…about Dad.”

  “What about him?” I said finally, thinking, Please, no, not this.

  “Did he really throw the civil war Peacefight?”

  Outside, the trees slid darkly past for several moments. “Yes,” I said softly.

  Hal gave me a quick, tight look. “How do you know?”

  I felt cold, unable to revisit that night before our father’s death. No one can judge your actions unless they’ve been there. Got that? Nobody. “I just do,” I said. “I’ll tell you about it someday. But yes, he did it.” I swallowed. “How…how did you hear?”

  “That’s what they said about him at your trial,” Hal said hoarsely. “Jo didn’t tell me. I heard it on the telio, through the floorboards. I was going to ask Ma about it, but…” He trailed off.

  “Do…do you think she knows?” he asked. “That he really did it?”

  “I don’t know.” I’d asked myself that a hundred times. All the expensive things we’d had. My father’s two airplanes. Peacefighters didn’t make much money. Hadn’t she ever suspected anything?