I could have argued, but I was too emotionally weary.
And I needed his cooperation.
“Fell,” I said. “Do you have a phone?”
“You don’t?”
“I’m poor,” I said. “Please?”
Conquest gestured, and Fell frowned a little. He stepped forward and handed me the phone.
One search.
Another. For a map.
I stared at it for a while.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
When all of this comes crashing down. I hope.
■
Peaceful.
I luxuriated in the quiet, the isolation.
Time to myself, in a way.
To put thoughts in order, plan, strategize.
I was functioning on a higher level because I was more me. Because I was borrowing from Rose.
I couldn’t even feel proud of what I was doing, knowing that it wasn’t all my success. I had to figure out a way to repair the connection, before I took too much.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t do good. I… I was glad, for what I’d managed to do, clearing out the woods. Not proud, but glad.
It was as if a deep-seated worry had less of a hold on me. I could do good.
I would do good.
Snow crunched underfoot with each footstep. Periodically it squeaked. I couldn’t make out much, but the moonlight reflected off the snow, and it let me see the essentials. Ground, tree.
I’d tended to my wounds, and I’d seen the tattoos. I’d given a lot of blood, and I’d suffered for it. I was paler. but the tattoos weren’t more vivid.
Things were starting to make sense.
The pattern of my boots crunching through snow stopped as I came to a halt.
I saw the ghost. Evan. Running from something that was no longer chasing him.
“Evan,” I said. I thought of the internet search. “Evan Matthieu. Stop.”
He stopped.
“Can we talk for a bit?” I said. “I promise I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.”
He looked over his shoulder. A flicker.
Something of an echo.
“Come on,” I said. “I know where we need to go.”
He nodded.
I would have held his hand, if I could have.
But I just walked alongside him.
I saw how furtive he was. There was nothing left in him that could really relax. It had been easy to miss when we were together, because there had been no reason to relax. But now that there was peace of sorts in these woods… it stood out.
“Your mom and dad looked for you,” I said. “It was in the news.”
He looked up at me.
“You were trying to go home?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“You said you tried the road, but that didn’t work. Did you figure out the direction you needed to go, to go home?”
“I have figured it out,” he said.
“Present tense,” I said.
“”I… I almost forgot? But yeah, I saw an airplane!” he said, with a note of excitement. “I saw… and I know it’s going to the airport, which means home is… that way!”
He pointed.
“Were you in the treehouse?” I asked.
He frowned, then nodded.
“That makes it easier,” I said. “You saw the plane, and left the safe area behind. The treehouse, the hedge, the stream…”
“Uh huh.”
“And you thought you could just find hiding places along the way, right? You didn’t need the hedge and stream if you knew where you were going.”
“I think, not thought.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Come on, we’ll be able to tell when we’re closer, because you’re a little more you, I think.”
“More me?”
“Yeah. Come on.”
We walked together. It wasn’t a fast walk. I knew the minutes and hours were ticking on. I knew this was an imperfect science. Time I should be sleeping, preparing for something that was pretty fucking scary.
But like I’d said, I had something to do.
“Do you remember my name?” I asked.
“Blake?”
“Yeah,” I said. We’re closer.
Somewhere between his home and the treehouse.
It was an hour before we got far enough.
He flickered.
“I… I need a nap,” he said. “I’m so tired.”
“Yeah,” I said. “And… I don’t think you were here. But we’re close. Come on. Let’s look. Look for good hiding places.”
He nodded.
It didn’t take that long to find, now that we were close. He started to break up when we reached places he never had, and places where he was too far away, like he had when I’d fought the Hyena.
We wound up by a series of rocks. I had to crawl to get far enough in.
Evan’s expression was solemn.
I was careful, brushing away the snow.
I touched something that wasn’t earth. Not snow, not dirt, not wood.
Gently, I dusted off his face with the back of my good hand. Cold to the touch.
When I looked at Evan, he was crying.
“You found me,” he said.
“Yeah. I’m sorry it had to be like this.”
He shook his head. “I- I-“
He stopped, crying openly. He hiccuped.
I waited, patient.
When he could finally speak again, he did so through more hiccups. “I wanted someone to find me. So I could go home. But I can’t go home, can I?”
“Not like this,” I said, my eyes on the ground.
He took another moment, a brief wail cut short, a whimper.
I saw a flicker in my vision. But when I looked, there was only darkness.
“It’s your choice, Evan,” I said. “If you want to move on, go wherever you’re supposed to go, I can try to help. I don’t think it’ll take much.”