The Wanted

She laughed nervously. “Thanks.” She nudged him with her elbow. He startled at the touch but smiled back at her. Desh was a bit like Rosa in that respect. He didn’t give his affection away so easily, and he didn’t like to be touched. The difference being, with Rosa, if you were one of those chosen few, if she allowed you into her space, she showered you with her touch, she slammed you with her smile, and she gave you everything she had. Inside her space was warmed by a bright sun. Now I was left out in the cold, in the shadows.

After we ate, we settled in to sleep. I couldn’t. Sleep came with nightmares. I shuffled back and leaned against the cave wall, my legs slipping out of my sleeping bag.

Desh crawled over the sleeping bodies to get to me. He grabbed the sleeping bag and tried to pull it up over my legs. “You need to stay warm.”

I scowled. “Yes, Mother.”

He gri

“Thanks, man.”

“No, thank you. You didn’t have to come back for me,” he said, talking to the opposite wall, his face stiffly turned away from mine.

I replied to the wall. “Yes, I did. Hessa needed you too.”

Desh sighed sadly, his shoulders slumping. “He won’t remember me, Joe. It’s been so long. I don’t even know what he looks like now.”

I fumbled around in my pack and pulled out Rosa’s handheld. “Here, she took these just before we left because she knew you’d want to see him.” I flipped through to a photo of Hessa standing in front of a fire. Rosa’s hand was on his small shoulder, steadying him while she took the photo. I traced the curve of her dark thumb pressed into his knitted jumper. I remembered her touch with such an ache I thought I might be splitting apart.

Desh took the handheld from me. “Oh wow. He’s so big and is he… walking?”

I nodded, a sad smile trying to move my lips, my feelings trying to claw their way out and seek comfort. Somewhere, my son was learning, taking steps and viewing the world without her or me in it.

“I miss him so much, and I miss her, God, I miss her, Desh,” I let slip with some agony and pain I really didn’t want to share.

“I miss her too,” he said to the wall.

“I don’t just miss her, Desh. I’m dying without her,” I whispered.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “It might feel like that, Joe, but you’re not. You’ll go on. Eventually for yourself, but for now, keep living for Orry and for her, for what she did for you.”

I knew he was right but it was hard to do when all I wished, all the time, was that she hadn’t done it.

Putting a hand on my shoulder, he patted it once. He gave me back the handheld, rested his elbows on his knees, and stared at the cave wall with me.

ROSA

Sometimes a moment can steel you. It needs to be strong, something memorable. This moment I would catch and hold to sustain me. Keep it protected in my locked up palms.

The feel, the taste, the touch. It was like fresh air. Delicious.

Harry’s hand on my shoulder guided me down the hallway like a blind person. It was a strong, yet gentle touch. I got the sense that Harry wasn’t really a bad man… just a man forced to do bad things. He wouldn’t hurt me unless I gave him reason to.

My eyes rolled to the bright, ceiling-high windows, the frost gathering in the corners of the glass like frozen breaths. Outside, the snow fought with the trees and plants, and was losing, with the sun as their back up. Thin sprinklings clung to the edges but slipped like melted icing. I tried to stop and look closer, but Harry steered me away. My hand crept up, trying to snatch a piece of the view and hold it. The air looked fresh, and I licked my lips at the imagined taste of it.

“Come on, Miss Rosa,” Harry urged quietly. “We have to keep moving.”

I sighed and shifted in my pajama pants and cardigan, my bare feet completely covered by the wide legs.

“Forgive me if I’m not in a rush to return to the torture room, Harry.” I said his name warmly, like I’d laid it out on the table and smoothed its wrinkles lovingly. It was accidental.

His eyes were regretful as he turned me away from him and continued to march me forward. I walked as slowly as he would allow.

Wheels tearing up carpet didn’t make much noise, but the huffing and puffing of the person pushing did.

“Move!” Grant barked as he stubbornly pushed his wheels while a soldier dressed in the black and gold uniform jogged next to him. Harry put out his arm and slammed me against the wall before Grant ran me over. I clamped my teeth together before I laughed. They looked like they were racing. I had the insane urge to declare a wi

“Where?” Grant roared at the soldier, who jumped back a little. Grant’s face was crimson, sweaty, and his hair flopped over his brow. I enjoyed seeing him rattled more than I could have imagined. A little smile started to tug and encourage my mouth.

“Birchton, Sir,” the soldier replied, standing to attention.

“What?” His voice was a swinging trumpet that rose to a crescendo in disbelief. “Are you sure you’re information is correct?” Grant’s control slipped from him like rain over plastic. He was shining with beads of rage that sprayed from him as he screamed.

“Over three hundred escapees and at least twenty buildings destroyed, so far, sir.” The poor soldier looked like he might wet himself.

My mouth danced happily. Who cared if he saw it? A smile spread across my face so wide that it was tipping off my head and flying into the air. Harry’s arm still lay across my chest like a restraining bar and he turned his head towards me, warning me with his eyes.

“Stop smiling, Miss,” he said through large, gritted teeth.

Harry’s whispering caught Grant’s attention. He turned his upper body to us and glared. It was too late to suppress. My smile wafted over to Grant and slapped him squarely in the face so hard I could almost see his head whip back.

He would have loved to have stormed over here and slapped me back, but he couldn’t. My grin spread wider.

“So far?” His voice dropped low, but we could still hear him. “Close your stupid mouth, soldier. Do you want the whole compound to hear your lies?”

Too late.

The lift opened, and they entered. Grant turned to face us, his expression muddled. Smiling one second, menace the next. His world was changing without his authority, and it had unearthed him, roots bare and begging for water.

My face stayed the same, a grin slung ear to ear.

It was working. My idea, my plan, was working.

And even if I couldn’t see it, I could feel its effect rolling over us like a wave, flooding the Superiors’ compound and bringing their worst fears to the surface like lost treasures.

JOSEPH

The problem is, I can’t die. I can’t let my feelings win. I have my son to get back to. I have to make sure Rosa’s plans go ahead. I have to rise above the bodies. There are no choices that are my own now.

My dressings peeled back to reveal a scarred, scabby chest. But I was whole. I would heal. Physically anyway. There was no infection, just a lot of deep scratches. They would still hurt but getting up and moving was the best thing for my body. And my mind. Now I could get away.