Page 22

CHAPTER 22

ON THE brINK

Julian

A s I watch Nadira walk out of my suite, I hold back the words that would delay her departure. We’ll see each other soon since she’s on leave from work and we’re going to dig into her past. I could also watch her on the cameras I installed in her suite to ensure her safety, but doing so won’t satisfy my need. I’m in a bad way. Have been since last night when she dangled the possibility that she might not claim me.

The urge to assert myself again until she gives me what I want is a fight I have to win. My status in her life must be freely given or her claim will be tarnished. And I refuse to diminish the value I’ve always placed on being hers because of my impulsiveness.

My fingers itch with the need to tidy the room. In my current state, I won’t stop at making the bed and piling the dishes from last night’s dinner into a neat stack. Instead, I call Alastair.

“Honestly, must you call when I’m preparing to restock? We’re running low on your inventory of inconspicuous methods to transport bodies. Excluding the body bags, you have one audio travel case. Everything else requires a cover story to explain the furniture and rolled carpets. Then there’s the ammunition, rifles, projectiles…” Alastair lists an inventory of items I haven’t requested.

“Thank you for the rundown,” I interject when he takes a second too long to add to the items he’s already told me about.

His mini-diatribe works to distract my mind, and the tingling in my fingers dissipates.

“I’m calling because I need you to meet me at the hotel. I’m taking Nadira to the orphanage, but don’t want to haul the things we’ve accumulated during our stay. And Leaper needs a ride home.”

Alastair’s silence makes me tense as I await his response.

“Alastair?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Don’t mind me. Since this isn’t a call to replenish your supplies, I’m returning the knives, guns, nerve agents, garrote?—”

“Wait… Bring the garrote. You never know what will happen.”

“As you wish.”

“And a syringe or two. I might meet people that will need a little extra convincing to give me the information I need.”

“Of course. We must always prepare for contingencies.”

I grin at Alastair’s dry wit before hanging up.

When he arrives, Alastair surveys each room and sniffs the air. I glance around the neat suite; I cleaned enough to satisfy my need for order without devolving into a frenzy. When Alastair moves out of earshot, I mimic him and sniff the air, wondering what he intends. In the bedroom, I realize his purpose. He sprays a scent neutralizer in the air.

He turns to me and says, “Congratulations on the new phase of your relationship. Would it kill you to protect the lady’s reputation from the gossiping staff?”

“Er… I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Now while you’re away, should I prepare the master bedroom for her move?”

“What move?” Nadira asks, entering the room.

“Alastair, in his unsubtle way, was probing to find out if he should move your things into my room. You don’t have to answer him,” I say while glaring at his smug grin.

Nadira shifts her glance between us before settling on me. “Do you not want me in your space? I don’t want to cause another incident after the last time.”

I take her hands in mine. “My inability to cope wasn’t because you read my private thoughts. I feared they would push you away, and a life without you in it after finding you again would have been untenable. But I was trying not to force the issue.”

“And honestly, having to move your things into the master bedroom can only improve the dreary austerity he sleeps in.” Alastair moves to the cart he commandeered from the bellhop downstairs.

“Dreary? Austere?” Nadira asks.

I shrug, but her stillness prompts me to add, “Unfinished. I was busy with other things.”

“I don’t get it. The other rooms I saw were warm and welcoming.”

“I was saving the master bedroom for last.” I walk to her side and whisper in her ear. “My queen should dictate what goes in that room.”

Her breath stutters as she exhales after my admission. “Understood.”

“Will there be anything else?” Alastair asks.

My answer is the glare I shoot at him. On his way, he whistles a tune I can’t place.

“I like him.”

“You can’t have him,” I reply.

“We’ll see.” Nadira pats my chest and walks toward the door Alastair exited through. “Ready to help me get my memory back?”

I pull up to Creative Gifts, the orphanage that started me on my current path. Phantom screams of children from my past life echo as we walk the abandoned playground side by side. Nadira brushes her hand against mine. The action coming from her prompts me to lace our fingers together.

I’m glad I do. Her fingers tremble against mine, belying her calm exterior. I now recognize the gesture for what it is, a subtle call for support. How could I forget that she sometimes finds it difficult to ask for comfort when she is in need? This is why I’m here, why I’ll make myself invaluable to her. Nadira is so used to being everyone’s support system, she neglects herself. It’s a habit she no longer needs to practice.

I kiss her knuckles, hoping she will gain strength from my small show of encouragement. I understand her nervousness because I share the sentiment albeit for selfish reasons. Somewhere inside her, Nadira has convinced herself she needs to be whole before fully accepting me. I disagree, but I haven’t come up with an irrefutable argument to win her over. Since I’m at a disadvantage, I offer silent prayers for her to get what she needs so I get what I’ve wanted for most of my life.

“Do you want to tour the buildings first or the places we used to escape to?” I ask.

“Where would I have spent the most time?”

“The adults kept us busy with various lessons and physical training. But you were on a mission to find your parents, so when you weren’t helping or protecting me and our friend, Chloe, you were sneaking into the private offices and reading through the files. I accompanied you more often after I turned thirteen, but you searched on your own a lot.” I gauge her face for signs she remembers or any hint of distress.

“Chloe?” She rubs her temple and closes her eyes. “The name is familiar, but I can’t associate a face with her name. Maybe I’ve met too many Chloes.”

The disappointment in her voice is difficult for me to swallow. If I could, I would wave a magic wand to restore Nadira’s memories and solve all her problems for her. But Nadira isn’t helpless and doesn’t require coddling. She’s one of the strongest people I know, the person I admire most in the world, and I’ll stand beside her when she decides to lean on me in whatever capacity she needs.

Despite all that, I try not to center myself and my lifelong desire in her struggle. Because in the end, the Nadira walking beside me is a combination of the Nadira I fell in love with as a child and the woman she’s become. At her core, she is the same. The changes in her could have been inevitable or due to the experiences she had since her accident. We’ll never know, and it’s irrelevant to my love for her.

“What happened with Chloe?” Nadira asks.

“She took your disappearance hard. At first, she thought like I did, that you would never leave us. But as time passed, she felt you’d betrayed us. That you escaped our world to live happily with your family and you never intended to get us. Eventually, she became bitter and we fell out because I never lost faith in you and my presence was a painful reminder of the promises we made to each other. Promises she thought you broke.”

Nadira clutches the space above her heart with her free hand. “I don’t know a lot about who I was, but I feel deep inside that if I made a promise, I would have tried to keep it, no matter what.”

“I know.” I squeeze the hand I hold to reassure her, but a sadness settles over her shoulder I’m powerless to remove or lighten.

We continue walking aimlessly around the campus in the hopes something will trigger a memory or some familiarity that I can add context to.

“What’s over there?” Nadira points toward a remote area on the campus.

I search her profile for signs of recognition. But the frown and tightness around her eyes as she glares only points to her struggle. I wrestle my flaring expectations to a low flame.

“Let’s check it out.” I lead her past the old maintenance building.

As we approach the door, her hold on me strengthens, and she rubs her temple. “This feels so familiar.” She tugs at the door, but because of the building’s long abandonment, it doesn’t budge.

I assist her until the building slowly opens.

“What used to be in here?” She swipes at the cobwebs and coughs because of the dust floating in the air.

“It’s the old maintenance building.”

She spins around in excitement. “Did I used to garden? I remember taking gardening tools—” she runs to a shelf “—from here. Funny, I don’t have a green thumb. My knowledge about nature comes from tracking and identifying poisonous plants.” She raises her hands and studies the racks.

“That’s because we never used the tools to garden. When you showed up, I’d already been here for four years and I was an outcast. At first, I was bummed about my mom and resisted participating in the combat lessons. After a year, I started paying attention, but the instructors ignored me and I didn’t pick up the exercises quickly enough. Then you forced yourself into my life and took the time to teach me. The three of us used to sneak in here at night to get what we needed.”

Nadira walks around the building and opens doors. Amid the broken windows, debris from the elements, and wild animals that took up shelter, are dusty shelves and rusty, old equipment that stopped working long before the orphanage closed.

“Knowing who I am now, I’m guessing I snuck out to do more than tutor you. I must have created a base. It’s something I still do, despite the danger. My current organization encourages me to live a nomadic existence, but I’ve always resisted.”

“You’re right. Follow me.” I lead her to the area our fort used to be. My heart is full of optimism. “It looks like someone discovered it. You’d built a fort?—”

“We celebrated birthdays here.” Wonder and excitement fill her voice and eyes. “To make it hard to find, I kept it small and we had to crawl inside!” She spins in place as if envisioning where everything was. “And this is where we used to plan my next moves on how to find my parents. Ooh, I…I remember, when I was about seven, that’s when they started giving me solo missions. Mostly pickpocketing and gathering intel. Whenever they let me out, I would collect local papers, sneak into libraries to get archived publications, and watch the uncensored news whenever it coincided with the small freedoms they allowed us. All to find clues to my parents’ whereabouts. My biggest hope was to find an interview with them.”

“Yeah, Chloe and I did the same. If there was an article about a missing child, we brought it back, regardless of the description.”

Her shoulders slump with fresh defeat, mirroring her reaction years ago when we realized the girls were rarely Black. The missing children notices for children of color either didn’t have a photo or the picture wasn’t recent. Just like in the past, Nadira shakes off her gloom.

“I will find out what happened to my parents one day,” she vows.

“I have every confidence, you will.”

She smiles at the conviction in my voice, then she holds her hand out to me. “Okay, I’m ready for more. If things continue to jog my memory, I’m sure we’ll find the key to what your people want to keep hidden.”

Hand in hand, we walk toward the main building housing the dorms. When she doesn’t pause or show a sense of familiarity in the room she and Chloe used to sleep in, I swallow my disappointment. She glances at me and I clear my face, but not in time.

“What is it? Is there something special about this place I’m missing?”

“This is where you and the other girls your age slept.”

With fresh eyes, she surveys the room of empty bunk beds. When they shut this place down, they didn’t bother to resell the furniture, leaving the old utilitarian pieces here.

“Do you know which bed was mine?”

Warmth suffuses my cheeks as I point out where she slept.

Instead of heading to her old bed, she approaches me, her curiosity peaked. “You’re blushing. Did you sneak in here after lights out?”

“I had little choice. We found out a week before my cohort was moving to a new orphanage where the training was more advanced, and we wanted to spend as much time together as possible before they separated us. Every night of that last week, I snuck in here or you slipped into my dorm to hold each other and renew our promises to be with each other when we got out.”

Nadira gives me a thoughtful nod before going to her old bunk bed. “I’m sure they assigned the bed to someone new after I disappeared.”

“They didn’t. Chloe wouldn’t let them. At first, she told them she was saving it for your return. When she stopped believing you would come back, she fought anyone who touched it, saying that the bed was to remind everyone there was no place for traitors here. She injured several staff and other girls until they stopped messing with the bed.”

Nadira walks around the frame, but other than scratches from wear and tear, there is nothing to distinguish it from the others. She turns her attention to the trunk at the foot of the bed and opens it. She knocks on the interior sides. She continues with the top, but when she reaches the bottom, our eyes meet. She bangs against it again. The hollow thunk tells us the panel is a false bottom.

I close the distance between us.

“Did you know about this?”

I shake my head and kneel beside her.

She removes the piece of wood. Folders, yellow with age fill the space. We glance at each other before we each select a folder. The first page in the file I hold is faded, but I recognize the girl in the photo as a girl from the orphanage. I glance at the file in Nadira’s hands.

“Why would I hide a file about this boy?” she asks.

“I’m not sure, but he was like us, another student being taught the skills to steal and kill. So was this girl.” I hand her the file in my hand.

We continue perusing files, hoping something will resonate with her. Some hint that will lead to why she hid information about kids we learned alongside. When I no longer sense movement from her, I glance in her direction. She looks shellshocked.

I gently remove the file in her hands, understanding her reaction. Staring up at me is…me. Or rather, the six-year-old version of me. “Why would you need a file on me?”

“I don’t know, but I think whatever I got involved with, whatever I discovered, I must have been trying to protect you. With us being as close as we were, that is the only reason I can think of for not telling you about this.”

With this discovery, the hair on my nape tingles. “I think we should pack this stuff up and leave. This place may be more dangerous than we thought.”

“I agree.” Nadira sets the files back in the trunk and resets the panel. She surveys the rest of the room, a frown pulling at her lips.

“What?”

“Just wondering. There’s a chest for every bed, but the files in there represent a handful of the kids here.”

“You think there are more?”

“It’s possible.” She kneels in front of another trunk and checks for another hidden panel.

The hollow thunk spurs me into action. While I knock on the insides of another box, she gasps.

“Holy shit.” She picks a folder out and I do as well.

We turn to count the trunks. There are eighteen in total.

“When we were here, there were probably a thousand kids from fifteen years and younger. Each chest holds about fifty files. Even if we condense them, we don’t have room to transport everything. We’ll have to return another day,” I say.

She sighs and nods. “I agree, but let me take a few with us. Maybe there’s a clue in there that will jog a memory or lead me where I need to go.”

“Good idea. I should have a case in the car that will protect the papers. We don’t want to manhandle them too much in case they disintegrate before we can read them.”

We exit the building to the sun dipping halfway below the horizon.

On the way to the car, I whisper to Nadira, “Do you feel that?”

“Mm-hmm. Someone’s watching us.”

“Quick, follow me.” I grab her hand and sprint toward the tree line, dodging a gunshot that splinters against the ground where I stood moments before. Another bullet whizzes by us from another direction.

We zig-zag until we make it to the relative safety of the woods. I motion for her to follow me. Without knowing the equipment our enemies have, we’re at a disadvantage. I have to assume they’re using a thermal scope and can pick up our heat signatures. To hide our presence, I lead us to a dense copse of trees and trees with trunks wide enough to camouflage us.

But staying hidden and being on the defensive is not a survival strategy. Although this is my terrain, a place I’ve memorized from all the times Chloe, Nadira, and I snuck into the woods to do extra training so we became the top of our classes, our weapons can’t compete with the long range of a sniper. And there are two on our heels. Despite the obstacles facing us, we can even the odds.

I lean into Nadira and whisper as low as possible to not betray our position. “Hug my waist and step where I step.”

She nods and wraps her arms around my middle.

I wish I could take the time to relish the unquestioning trust she places in me, but I’ll have to wait until we’re safe before I celebrate this milestone. I navigate us through the woods, disturbing areas to lead our pursuers astray. When we clear the most dangerous area, the sun has completely set and darkness blankets the woods.

“Can you still climb?” I ask.

She nods and points to a tree with enough foliage to hide her from view while giving her the advantage of a sneak shot for the people following us.

I point toward another tree, then to myself. The other position will give us the advantage and will allow us to ambush whoever is after us. After ensuring she gets a safe distance from view, I take my place.

The people following us are good. In the night’s stillness, they don’t make a sound, snap a fallen twig, or crunch a leaf in their pursuit. The minutes fill with tension, but Nadira and I have faced this type of danger before. We have the patience to wait for the right time to make our move.

A feminine scream cut short followed by a spray of high-powered bullets hitting the surrounding trees leaves me with a sense of satisfaction. One pursuer has fallen into one of the many traps Nadira, Chloe, and I made as kids. But one person remains. I doubt they will fall victim so easily to the underground spikes hidden under years of fallen foliage.

Two muffled shots sound from Nadira’s direction. I stare into the darkness, trying to penetrate the denseness that will tell me if she’s okay, but my vision can’t pierce the shadows. I silently make my way down, unwilling to risk being safely hidden away if Nadira’s in distress. When I round her location, I barely have time to avoid the knife that thunks into the tree trunk where my head was. A slight sting on my cheek tells me I didn’t escape unscathed.

“Shit, Julian! I could have killed you.” Nadira grabs my face and wipes the moisture away. “Dammit. I hope it doesn’t scar.”

I pull her hand away. “So what if it does? We’ll be a matched pair.”

She shakes her head. “Does nothing faze you?”

“Not when you’re by my side.” I remove her knife and return it to her. “I assume the shots I heard came from you.”

“Yeah. I left him alive, but we’re not safe here.” She pulls the man’s gun over her head and slings it toward her back.

“I have a place. Let’s get him secured then get as many files as we can.” I heft the unconscious man over my shoulders. “I’ll lead the way.”

We retrace our steps to reach the clearing and pause. Neither of us senses anything amiss, so we rush to the car.

“Those motherfuckers shot out all four of the tires.” Nadira kicks a flat tire in frustration.

“I can’t say that’s unexpected.” I open the back of the SUV and dump our hostage inside.

“I guess I’ll have to kill this asshole, or else he’ll be more trouble than we can handle when he wakes.” She pulls her gun and aims.

“Don’t be too hasty.” I find the case of syringes Alastair packed and inject the unconscious man with the one I need. Then I call Alastair.

“This better be important. My souffle is at a delicate stage.”

“We were ambushed and our car’s disabled.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Before you leave, I have a list of things I need you to bring.” I give him everything Nadira and I need.

“My poor souffle,” he laments before hanging up.

“We can’t just twiddle our thumbs while we wait for Alastair,” Nadira says.

“We won’t. I have an idea.” I lead her back into the woods where the dead woman lies impaled. “She’s going to help us make you disappear.”

We retrieve her body and gun, then hide the evidence of the disturbed trap. Afterward, we place her behind the steering wheel of my car.

“Now what?” Nadira swipes her hands against her thighs.

“Follow me.” I lead her into an office building on the campus. In the old file room, I find what I need. “When they shut this place down, I figured they probably needed storage boxes to transfer files and would have had more than they needed.” I lift a dusty box of perforated cardboard. “We can start filling these while we wait for Alastair.”

Before we leave the office, we check to see if any files remain. Like the maintenance building, there’s nothing but cobwebs. We take the boxes and transfer the files from the dorm, using the light of our cell phones to aid us. At one point, I leave Nadira in her old dorm room to check the others. None of the other rooms had hidden files. When I join her, we pile the full boxes by the entrance. As Nadira finishes packing her last box, my phone vibrates.

I tell Alastair to back up to the door and open the trunk. While he stays inside and acts as our lookout, Nadira and I pack the boxes inside. When we finish our task, we jump in and drive to the stationary vehicle. Our hostage remains unconscious, and we quickly secure him in the new car.

Nadira and Alastair assist me in soaking the woman’s body and interior of the car with the gasoline Alastair brought, but the gas is extra insurance. My organization won’t be fooled by a charred corpse, even if it’s the same gender as Nadira. The true protection is the C4. I set the bomb and sit behind Alastair in the second vehicle.

Once we’re a safe distance, I trigger the detonator, satisfied when a dark mushroom cloud billows in the sky. As soon as I turn to the front, Nadira grabs my face and uses the first aid kit to clean the cut on my cheek.

“I suppose now’s a good time to mention that while hiding in the woods, I remembered the treasure buried under one of those death traps.”

I grab Nadira’s hand. “What else do you recall?”