Limerence: Book Three of The Cure (Omnibus Edition)

*

  But the loneliness.

  *

  It was worse than the hunger. It was transfixing. No creature, she understood – even a monstrous one – was meant to be alone.

  *

  One day the world as she knew it changed.

  *

  Once there was a girl with a moon for a heart who escaped a stone prison to live in a snow-covered forest. She was the only girl in this forest, indeed she was the only girl in any forest, or so it seemed to her. She wandered alone, day after day. She was the loneliest creature to ever exist. Until a different kind of day came. A day in which she saw a bird of prey and, fearing it, fled. But the bird sat in the branches of a fir tree and sang sweetly to her. She heard the truth in its song: there had never been a girl in the forest to begin with, only one bird of prey and now a second, come to share its voice with her. They might be the last two in the world, but they were two, and that mattered. That was the thing that mattered more than her moon heart, because it was the thing that made a final, profound end to her hunger.

  Chapter 19

  October 15th, 2067

  Josephine

  I don’t know how many days have passed. I have vague recollections of a moon rising maybe twice. But I haven’t been occupied by the passing of the days or nights, or by the pain in my hand or the presence of monsters. I’ve been existing in the perfect clarity of my memory, which has at last decided to take me back to the beginning.

  It doesn’t hit me in chronological order, but all at once. Part of my delirium is due to sifting through the madness of so much information, so many new memories, and putting them into a semblance of order. The rest of my delirium is due to the content of such memories. The stars could fall and I wouldn’t know it; the earth, I think, must be burning. I used to dream of vague pieces of these memories, but now they are whole.

  It began in Ben Collingsworth’s lab, with needles and electric shocks and pills. With the kind words of a mad scientist as he tortured children for the greater good.

  It began with rodents and cats and it progressed to people.

  There was so much death. It was brutal beyond belief.

  But all of this I knew.

  What I didn’t know was why I killed, or how. I thought it a cold, psychopathic desire for death. I thought it was madness. I was so wrong.

  It was a desire for life. A hunger for it.

  It was base, instinctive, primitive, feral.

  It was animal.

  I fed on my prey like a predator is designed to. Like it evolves to. Like the Furies do. With no cruelty, only survival. If hunger becomes too great we eat. If we are carnivores we eat meat. If there are no animals we eat humans. If we are no longer humans we eat humans without it being cannibalism. Those are the things I remember in absolute, throbbing detail.

  When I wake from the fever to find myself still among them, my amputated finger having been heavily wrapped and clumsily cauterized, the threads to my own humanity and the woman I’ve been untie and slip steadily away. Because the most important thing I remember is not that I fed on people, it’s that I knew exactly what I was doing as I did so.

  *

  March 25th, 2068

  Josephine

  I watch the clouds forming into the shape of a bear. It’s one of those sad circus bears balancing on a ball. The sky behind him is so blue it’s almost mocking. He soon moves wistfully out of his shape and away into the air. Another cloud twists into an S and I think of Medusa and her snakes.

  “Yeah, it’s only those four,” Luke says.

  I roll onto my stomach and peer into the building opposite. We’re on the roof of a skyscraper, lying atop two hundred stories of financial advisors and lawyers and accountants. Nobody comes up here because they’re too busy working like machines. I reach for the second pair of binoculars and lift them to my eyes. I adjust the focus and the kids come into view. Four of them, as Luke said, held in a secure hotel, awaiting the cure for anger.

  The kids are the children of two of the ministers. According to Zach these two ministers in question are best friends, their wives close, their children the same age. Two sets of twins, which is eerily strange and no doubt to do with genetic tinkering. They’re the first four children from within the Gates to ever undergo the cure. It’s been made public as a response to the ongoing attacks of the rebels in freeing children. When we found out last week, Zach explained begrudgingly that it was a genius stroke of strategy on his father’s part. The more we attack with messages of oppression and liberation – the more teenagers we free – the more concerned the drones have been getting with the state of things. We’ve been hacking their television feeds to show videos stating how hypocritical and fascist it is for the regime to cure all children but their own. So goddamn Falon Shay has come up with this.

  “It’s a dare,” I say. “He’s begging us to attempt it. Keeping them in a public building outside the security of the Gates. It’s a trap.”

  “Even so,” Luke replies, unfazed.

  “Don’t you think we have a million other things to be worrying about?”

  “You were the one who always said the children came first. They’re our priority.”

  I let out a breath. It was only last night that we did the medicine run and Luke’s arm dislocated – he’s in no shape to attempt anything, so we’re on reconnaissance only. A surveillance trip to establish the reality of whether or not we can actually do this. I realize now that it was never up for debate. No matter how dangerous I argue it is, Luke will make it happen.

  “Okay, aside from the risk,” I say, “Is it right?”

  “Huh?”

  “Stealing children from their parents and holding them captive in underground tunnels.”

  He looks at me like I’ve just murdered a baby. “Freeing children from an oppressive regime that will promptly rape them of their emotions.”

  “Taking them from their parents, their homes, their whole lives. From everything they’ve known and offering them something frightening and dangerous.”

  “We give them the choice for a better life.”

  “By whose standard?”

  He shakes his head. “You sound like Shay in his propaganda videos.”

  I don’t take offense to that because I know he’s only trying to wound me as much as I’ve wounded him in the last twenty-four hours.

  “What exactly are you trying to say, Josi?”

  “I’m not saying anything, I’m just asking questions.”

  “You want to add more kids to the list of casualties in this war? You want them to have their feelings stolen like all the other poor men and women who live with altered brains and mood swings and constant numb confusion?”

  Tiredly I murmur, “Feelings are overrated.”

  He glances at me and then shakes his head. “Some pretty thick blinkers you’ve got on there.”

  “Or maybe I’m seeing clearly for the first time.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

  “There’s a lot we’re agreeing to disagree on lately.” Like the Furies.

  He turns to me. “Do we agree on the one thing that counts?”

  I look at him, waiting for his take on what that is.

  “That Falon Shay has to die and the ministers must be disempowered?” I don’t answer straight away and he adds, “They’re trying to cure love, Josephine. That’s just batshit.”

  I choose my words carefully. “First I want to know what you imagine will take the regime’s place.”

  “We’ve talked about this. A council.”

  “Of whose choosing?”

  “Ours.”

  “And who would we choose?”

  “Those of us from the tunnels, first. Then we’d add people from different communities. Hold elections for more members. We’ll make it as varied and inclusive as possible.”

  “And who gets the final say on things?”

  “We vote.”

  I sit up and raise my knees in a loose cross. ?
??Luke. You know none of this will happen without a leader people can believe in. Councils are good in theory but we’re rebels. Shay’s been telling them about all the supposed innocents we slaughter. They won’t want a council of faceless insurgents running the city. They need a real person who can inspire them to hope. Someone who will be just, intelligent and trustworthy. Someone who will offer them all the things that have been missing from their lives.” I pause and search his face. “You know it’s you, don’t you? Tell me you understand that.”

  “I don’t want it. I never wanted it.”

  “But it was always going to be yours.”

  He sits up and we’re closer than I’d like. His green eyes flash in the sun. “Only according to you.”

  “And everyone in the tunnels. People love you. Plus you’re more qualified than the rest of us put together – you’ve seen the way things function on the highest levels. It’ll only work if it’s you, Luke.”

  “Josi, listen to me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted – like, literally since all of this began – is you. I only went looking for the resistance because you wanted me to. I can’t be a leader because if push comes to shove I’d prioritize you over everything – over this whole damn city. And I’m not saying that to get you back or anything, it’s just fact.”

  I lace my fingers over my knees. “That’s not a problem anymore because I’m not part of the equation. I’m not an option you can choose.”

  He’s a very good actor so he hides it well – how much this hurts him. Calmly he says, “I don’t buy it. Not after last night.”

  “That was biology.”

  He snorts.

  “I know that sounds dumb. But there’s a lot of things I can’t control about my behavior and it comes down to biology. I had to come to terms with that or it would have driven me insane. Some part of me wanted you last night but I’m really sorry it happened because the last thing I want is for you to be hurt.”

  “Well, too bad. I’m hurt. A lot. All the time. That’s what happens when your wife wakes up one morning and decides she doesn’t love you anymore.”

  “It wasn’t a decision. It was just … a truth.”

  “Did you, or did you not, love me the day we got married?”

  “Of course I did—”

  “So the truth revealed itself as a response to whatever happened to you, which means it wasn’t an organic truth, it was a means of dealing with trauma, which means it can be overcome.”

  I sigh. This is not going well. “Look, shit happens, things change. It is possible to fall out of love.”

  He shakes his head stubbornly and turns back to the kids.

  I do the same, wondering when we will stop having this conversation. I suppose the answer is when I find a way to convince him of what I’m saying. And to do that I will need to engage something drastic.

  “There’s one thing I believe in as much as I believe in us,” he admits softly, eyes trained on the other building. “I will kill Falon Shay, no matter what it costs me. For the damage he’s done and the things he’s taken. For the monsters he’s created.”

  I reach to finger the gun at my belt and reply absently, “If only you could see me for one of them, you’d know as well as I do how over we are.”

  *

  Luke

  I’m thinking about last night as we walk back through the tunnels. It was such a brutal blow, to have the love between us turn rough and animal. To have her feel a million miles away even as I was inside her. Her detachment in those moments frightened and humiliated me, the lack of intimacy she forged in an act that used to be our most intimate. But even having pain between us is better than nothing, and if letting her control what happens between our bodies helps her to return to me, then I’ll do anything she wants.

  Because it was during those swift, aggressive moments that I realized the truth. She’s not dealing with what was done to her. She’s dealing with the things she did to others. And that, for Josi, is much worse. Whatever horrors she committed has made her believe she doesn’t deserve anything gentle or intimate; it made her believe she doesn’t deserve love.

  We reach the outer gate and I scan my prints to open it. I walk through in time to see two bodies in the dark, parting swiftly.

  Josi and I stop, staring at the lovers.

  “Hey,” Eric greets us. His partner is in the shadows behind him and I can’t make out who it is.

  “Really, Eric?” Josi asks. “This is the second time I’ve caught you sneaking out to some lover’s tryst. You don’t have to hide it.”

  “We’re not sneaking around,” he protests. “There’s just limited privacy unless you go into the dark.”

  “Who’s with you?” I ask. “You’re not in trouble.”

  “Really?”

  I shrug. “What do we care if you make out with someone?”

  The figure moves into the light from our torch and my heart sinks. “Oh. Maybe you are in trouble.”

  It’s Alo, beautiful Adonis Alo. Sixteen-year-old Alo.

  “We weren’t doing anything,” he says.

  Josi snorts.

  “Jesus, Eric,” I snap. “Both of you are coming with me.”

  “We haven’t done anything wrong!” Alo says.

  We take them to the tech room because it’s the most private and usually sheds the most light. Josi trails behind because I give her a look that says she better bloody well help me with this, even though it looks like the last thing she’d choose to be doing.

  “Out, Teddy,” I order.

  Teddy looks up from whatever computer crap he’s doing. “I’m in the middle of rerouting the—”

  “Out.”

  He sighs and leaves, and I sit Eric and Alo on the two chairs. Josi leans against the door while I pace, trying to think what to do.

  “Luke—”

  “Shh.” I stop and fold my arms. “You’re thirty.” I point to Eric. “And you’re sixteen.”

  “So?” Alo demands.

  “So this is not happening. I can’t let it.”

  “Luke—”

  “It’d be negligent of me! We didn’t bring you down here so you could get preyed on by older men who should know better!”

  “Hey!” Eric protests. “I didn’t prey on him.”

  “He didn’t. I pursued him, I swear.”

  “It doesn’t matter, you’re a child.”

  “Is this because we’re gay?”

  I roll my eyes. “Please.”

  “Luke, I swear, nothing’s happened,” Eric promises. “That was the first time we ever kissed.”

  “It won’t happen again,” I say. “Not until he’s eighteen.”

  “Why?” Alo snaps. “It’s such an arbitrary number! I’m not a fucking child – you bring us down here and demand we grow up so damn fast, you make us adults in every way and then expect us not to know our own hearts?”

  I rub my eyes and look at Josi for help.

  She is studying Alo and Eric with an unreadable expression. When it’s clear she’s not going to weigh in, I turn back to them. “We trust you to be more responsible than this,” I tell Eric. “It’s not just their physical health we’re trying to protect, but their mental and emotional, too.”

  “You sound a hundred years old,” he snaps, but I can see shame color his cheeks in the blue light.

  “Well, someone ought to, since even the adults are acting like children.”

  “Do I get a say in my own life?” Alo demands angrily.

  I meet his huge dark eyes. “Maybe we do ask you to grow up fast in every other way, but not in this. This is the one part of your innocence we have to protect. I’m determined to. Fall in love, fine, but no contact between you until you’re eighteen, or there’ll be serious trouble. And I’m not talking about extra chores.”

  I stride from the tech room before they can argue further.

  Josi is so silent in the dark I don’t even realize she’s with me until I reach the ladder to the sleeping tunnels.

&n
bsp; “You agree, don’t you?”

  She nods.

  “But we let Malia and Coin kiss as much as they wanted.”

  “They were the same age.”

  The tension in my chest eases slightly. “It is different, isn’t it?”

  She nods again.

  “So why didn’t you help me then?”

  “I don’t have anything to do with it.”

  My mouth falls open. I think, if possible, I feel more betrayed than ever. “Can you at least come make a plan with me? For the twins?”

  Since I’ve made no move to climb she overtakes me and starts gracefully up the ladder. “Go after them if you want. I’ve got bigger things to plan for.” Then she’s gone, up through the opening.

  I stare after her.

  My feet take me slowly to the storage work space. Dad’s sitting on a stool, shaking badly and instructing Dave on the task of refilling the generator’s fuel since he can’t do it himself. Dave’s not doing a very good job of it, by the looks of the mess.

  “Hi, boyo,” Dad greets me. “All smooth?”

  “Hunky dory.” I swing my backpack onto the bench and rifle through the contents for Dad’s medicine. “I’ve got Levodopa and Apomorphine.”

  “Both.”

  That means it’s been a bad day. He won’t be able to open the bottle himself so I pop the lids and pass him two tablets. Then I reach for the generator from Dave, who surrenders it gratefully. I ignore the itchy sensation in my fingers that wishes to take the engine apart and instead finish refueling it.

  “Can I ask you a favor?”

  Dave is busy trying to clean the grease off his hands, which is a futile mission down here without any proper sinks. “Sure.”

  “Can you play some classical stuff to Josi?”

  He frowns. “To her? Like a serenade?”

  “No, like … just … around her.”

  This doesn’t seem to clarify anything for him.

  “She’s a cellist.” I sigh. “But she hasn’t played since she got back, and I thought if she could hear you play some of her favorites it might …”

  “Seduce her.” He smiles gently and rests a hand on my shoulder. “I can try.”