On Thursday, once Marienne and I have gotten in my car after her training, I tell her, “Got a tiny little surprise for you.”
She beams. “Really?”
I fish my phone out of my pocket and start tapping around on it. “It’s not much, but I thought you might like it.” I find the picture and hand her my phone. “That’s what my backyard looked like this morning.”
She gasps softly and breathes out, “Oh.” Her eyes move over the valley full of snow-topped trees, and the mountains in the distance, and the soft color of the sky. “Oh, Gabe, it’s awesome. I can’t believe you woke up to this.”
I smile. “Like it?”
“You have no idea. It’s so much better than an apartment.”
“Prettier for sure, but there’s hardly anyone around.”
“That’s weird to me. I don’t know why people aren’t jumping at the chance to live on a mountain. I’d do it if I could.” She gives my phone back. “Maybe I’ll build a house on a mountain.”
“Are you interested in architecture?” I ask as I start out of the parking lot.
“No. I mean, architecture is interesting, but could I make a profession out of it? No.”
“Why not?”
“I would do an abominable job.”
I chuckle. “I think if you like it, you can make it work.”
She laughs a little, too. “My poor math skills beg to differ.”
“Well, are you a good artist? Maybe you could just deal with concepts or something.”
“I can draw, actually,” she says, “but I’m better at small things than large things. Like, I can do eyes pretty well, but not a whole face.”
I sigh. “I wish I could draw. My mother could. And, of course, I didn’t really start wanting to learn until after she was gone.”
“Yeah,” she says kindly. “That’s the way it goes, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
She hesitates before she asks, “What happened to her? Or is that not…?”
I murmur, “It’s fine. I don’t mind you asking.” Still, the memory saddens me. “She died the night I turned Light. Our house got broken into and the burglars shot her.”
“Ohhhh, God.” Her voice softens to a hush. “No. Gabe….”
“Yeah.” I press a hand to my right ribcage. “They shot me, too. Just didn’t kill me.”
She tells me earnestly, “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t help anything, but still.”
I look over at her and give her a grateful smile. “I appreciate it anyway. And I’m doing a lot better now than I was at first. Time really does help, in its way.”
Something in her eyes shifts and she looks away, so I do, too. “I’m glad to hear that.” She clears her throat and asks more lightly, “What do you like to do, then? In your free time?”
I inhale deeply and let the breath out slowly. “Um, I don’t really know.”
And that’s the truth. I’ve been focused on nothing but work for so long that I usually just sleep in my free time. Even when I’m having my meals, I keep my eyes open for white Radiances. I spend time with Wes and Beatrix every now and then—not often enough to call it a hobby. Haven’t had anything to do with a girl in years.
After a few moments, she suggests, “Reading?”
I nod a little. “I like to read, but I don’t do it often.”
“What about writing?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never tried it.”
“Hmm. Do you like playing video games?”
That one makes me laugh. “What guy doesn’t?”
She chortles. “Yeah, okay. Well, what kind of games do you like? Mario?”
I grin. “I do like Mario, but I haven’t played any games in a really long time.”
“Oh.” After a second, “Are you a good cook?”
I squint and ruminate for a second. “I think so? It’s been a while since I cooked much of anything.”
“All right…do you like movies?” She’s starting to sound a little confused by my answers.
I tell her the truth even though it’ll probably only puzzle her further. “Yeah, but it’s been a while since I watched a movie, too.”
She sits quietly for a minute, and when I pull up to a red light, I look over at her. She looks back at me, her expression contemplative. “Do you spend most of your time working?” she finally asks.
With a slow nod, I admit it. “Yes.”
An understanding smile comes onto her face now. “Do you love it?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the car ahead of me already driving forward, so I face the front. I get us going again before I say, “Yeah, I do.”
“What’s your favorite part?”
“That I find people who feel like they don’t belong anywhere.”
I’m definitely not used to being asked questions like this, but I drum my fingers on the steering wheel and decide to keep talking.
“I’m good at Defender work, though. That’s what I did for the first year I was in the Lightforce—and don’t get me wrong, killing Hellions is important, so important. But the look that comes onto a person’s face when they see me and realize they’re not alone…it’s…outstanding.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I saw it with you, too—especially on the day you talked to me, but a little the first time I ever saw you. I think that day you were pretty stuck in combat mode.”
She lets out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, that was a really chaotic minute for me.”
I grin. “For me, too.”
I think back to how receptive she was the first day we talked. Some of the information surprised her, like me telling her she was glowing, but I could tell she wanted it. She looked at me that day like she wanted every syllable I had to offer her, like she’d wait all day for me to explain things if she had to. That’s what I love the most about being a Gatherer: being able to save someone with a simple explanation.
Oh, fine. I also liked the fact that she wanted me to talk to her at all.
And I really like that she still does.
I tell her, “I used to play the piano all the time. I enjoyed that a lot.”
“Really? I love the piano!” she says. “I can’t play it, though. Well, maybe I can play a tiny bit of ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb.’”
“I’d say that I’ll help you with it sometime, but I don’t know where to even find one to work with.”
“Yeah, I don’t know where, either. But if you ever come across one, let me know. We can trade a piano lesson for a drawing lesson.”
For some reason, that turns my already-bright mood incandescent. I actually hold a hand out to her. “Deal.”
She shakes my hand and echoes, “Deal.”
Oh my God, I already love touching her.
I wonder if it shows—wonder if she can tell that she’s the first girl I’ve touched in forever, not counting hugging Beatrix at the funeral.
When she lets go of my hand, she asks, “What’s something you don’t like?”
Looks like I didn’t give myself away.
“Country music,” I reply after a second.
“I’m with you on that one.”
“I also don’t like…soda.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I mean, I used to like it, but once I started training and had to do a lot of fighting, I learned water is the best thing to drink when you’re thirsty.”
“Ah. Good point. Maybe I should start on that myself.”
“I’m sure your body would appreciate it. It doesn’t like being dehydrated.”
She sounds like she’s smiling when she says, “No. No, it doesn’t.” Then, “Who trained you back in the day?”
“Wes did. He’d been in the Lightforce for eleven years already.”
“Jesus. So you really are like his little brother.”
I nod. “Fifteen-year difference between us. I’m like the little brother his parents conceived on accident.”
She laughs. “That’s funny.”
Not one of my more entertaining moments if you ask me, but if I’m making her smile, okay.
“What exactly made you want to be a Gatherer in the first place?” she asks. “If you were doing so well being a Defender?”
I draw a breath and hold it a second before I let it back out.
“It was Em.” It still hurts to think about him, but I don’t think Marienne knows I’m on the same level as Wes as far as being a trainer goes, and it’s kind of an important aspect of my job now. “Johnta Emilia is the man we buried recently. He was the Gatherer trainer around here—had been for a really long time. I just got to talking to him one day and I was curious about what his job entailed, you know. And everything he told me sounded so rewarding that I wanted to try it out.”
Softly, she says, “And look at you now.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m—I’m actually what he was, now that he’s gone. I’m in charge of the Gatherer stuff around here now.”
Marienne gasps. “Really?”
“Really. He and I were the only two Gatherers in town because...” I frown a little, not wanting to sound conceited, “...well, we didn’t need anyone else. But I can’t do it all alone, so I’ve spoken with a couple of Defenders who are interested in making the switch.”
“Wow!” she says excitedly. “I mean, I can tell that you miss him, but I know you’ll do a great job taking over for him.”
A soft laugh leaves me. “You know that, do you?”
“Yes.”
What a nice thing for her to say. “Well, thank you. It’s going to be...strange. It already is, really.”
“I’m sure, but you’ve got promise written all over you. You’ll be great.”
I can’t help a smile. She sounds so confident in me that I feel more confident in myself.
When I pull up in front of her apartment, I inform her, “I’m doing all the asking tomorrow.”
“I will prepare myself,” she says.
“You do that.”
She nods once. “I’ll do that.”
I nod back. “Do it.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Do.” I find myself grinning.
“I will.” A smile makes its way onto her face, too, and she puts her hands on her cheeks like that’ll make it go away. It’s adorable how it doesn’t work at all.
And then we’re both laughing. My face actually hurts from it after just a few seconds. I don’t really even know what’s tickled us so much.
“What’s so funny?” I barely manage to ask her.
“I don’t know.” She opens her door. “I’ve given up on trying to figure myself out.”
The frigid air feels good on my suddenly warm face, and it helps me calm down enough to speak clearly. “Maybe I’ll follow suit. It’s kind of fun.”
She bends down to look at me. She’s still smiling brightly and it’s marvelous. “I feel like I’m probably a little stranger than I am fun, but whatever you think, Gabe.”
One thing I do know is that I love hearing her say my name.
I try to reel in the rush of boldness I’m getting from this weirdly exhilarating situation. I feel like telling her, ‘What I think is you’re the most awesome girl ever and I wish I could hang out with you all fucking day,’ but instead, I go with a different, simpler truth. “Our whole existence is strange, Marienne.”
She nods. “Good point.” Then she snorts and her eyebrows go up and she claps a hand over her mouth. Voice muffled, she says, “Okay, I’m going now.”
“All right.” I start laughing again just at remembering our ridiculous back-and-forth.
“See you tomorrow?”
Can’t believe she’d double-check that. “Yes, tomorrow.”
She shuts the car door and hurries away, laughing the whole time. I can hear the sound until the moment she closes herself into her apartment.
“Good God,” I sigh to myself.
I head to the mall directly from her apartment. This afternoon marks my first time meeting up with Janssen and Wright for any semblance of Gatherer training. White Radiances aren’t around every day, though, so we don’t end up with much to do. Still, the guys are patient, and they listen as I talk about the kinds of things I’ve learned to expect from new Light people.
When I first started out as a Gatherer, Em had a different conversation with me. He was a great mentor and friend, but he said, ‘Try it for yourself,’ a lot. Although that was a good lesson for me to learn, I’m working with men who have already seen years of straightforward action. I think it would benefit them to hear how the more subtle approaches have worked for me, even if they end up not using them.
I tell them new Light people will always be startled by us. They’ll always stare at the Radiance if they can see it, and they’ll always ask about it. Sometimes they’ll freak out and run away, or start yelling or throwing punches because they don’t think we’re real.
Their initial reactions don’t necessarily foretell how they’re going to receive the whole speech—Em said when he found Wes, he almost took a punch to the stomach because his Radiance surprised Wes so greatly. But after Em said what he needed to say, Wes was way less hostile. So, barring people trying to murder them in self-defense, Gatherers should always try to push through whatever response they get at first.
After that, it can be a difficult thing to figure out. On the one hand, a little persistence can be a game-changer. We need as many people in the Lightforce as we can get because our numbers are so thin compared to those of the Hellions. On the other hand, some people don’t react well to being entreated even the tiniest bit—like the guy I found last year who socked me in the mouth so hard I have a scar on my bottom lip now. Some people just want to be left alone to deal with their new life however they see fit. In such a case, walking away feels like admitting defeat, but staying would only make things worse. New Light people need to have room in their heads for such extraordinary conversation, and if they don’t have it…well, they just don’t.
But you can’t always tell who will have room and who won’t. Sometimes the younger people are more open to the whole thing, and sometimes they think I’m playing some kind of elaborate joke on them because I’m pretty young myself. Some older people are stuck in their beliefs about what can and can’t exist, and others say they’ve lived long enough to know there are things in the world that are real no matter how difficult they are to explain.
Sometimes the whole thing just goes perfectly: a Gatherer finds someone who is approachable and ready for answers. But it’s nothing anyone should count on happening, and Janssen and Wright seem to accept that.
Not surprisingly, we go all the way through dinner without spotting anything of interest to us. We split up after that. The other day, Janssen volunteered to take the night watches; he was already doing that as a Defender because he was used to life as a policeman. So after spending another couple of fruitless hours by myself, I head home for the night and leave Fayetteville in Janssen’s hands.
I get there and get settled in, but I’m not tired enough to fall asleep. Instead of lying in bed anyway like I usually would, I decide to do something I haven’t done in quite a while: turn on my TV.
Since I’m not too familiar with most of what’s on, I settle for The Breakfast Club. My mom loved it, so I saw it more than a few times when I was younger.
Watching it now makes me sad. But it also makes me laugh because John Bender is too hilarious sometimes—maybe even funnier than usual with all the editing they had to do to put the movie on TV. And the movie makes me think about Marienne with a different sense of anticipation than usual, because tomorrow I’ll be able to tell her I actually did something with my free time.
And really, I’m excited about that. Although I love being Gatherer Gabe, I realized during her questioning that I’ve been seriously shorting myself on enjoying the things I like as regular Gabe.
*
I guess I fell asleep thinking about Marienne, which is weird because the thought of her doesn’t fatigue me in the least.
Case in point: I wake up in the morning at my usual time of 6:00, and once the thought of her stirs in my head, I’m wide awake. And cheerful. So cheerful that instead of being mad about the really annoying paid programming rolling on my TV (I fell asleep with it on, apparently), I actually listen to the lame script for a minute just in case the product isn’t completely worthless.
It turns out to be completely worthless after all, but I’m still in a good mood.
I don’t have much sustenance at my house since I don’t spend a lot of time in it, so I swing by Starbucks every morning. It’s usually pretty busy, which is good for looking for white Radiances, but today I see none. I do spot a Hellion, so I call Wes and let him know.
He’s pretty close by and he makes it over before the Hellion leaves, so we talk for a minute and agree to catch lunch together, since we’ll both be going to the Sanctum afterward. Then it’s time for him to get in his first kill of the day, and I leave him to it.
While I mosey around Wal-Mart, I check in with Wright. He’s got a whole lot of nothing just like me, but we agree that the day is young and full of potential, and we remind each other to call if we find any new Light people.
Something else that is young and full of potential: the human child. I’m looking at a few CDs when I hear an adorable, shrieky giggle from the next aisle over. I look up, amused, but see nothing.
A guy starts talking from that direction, his voice overly deep and theatrical. “Charlotte is going to be late for kindergarten! Oh, bother! All she wanted to do was take The Tigger Movie to show-and-tell, but her baby sister spilled apple juice on the only copy she had! Now she’s at the store getting another one, but time runs short! What can be done? Who can be called?” The words echo around the department.
An excited cheer pierces the air, I guess from Charlotte. “Daddy the Bullet!” she shrieks.
“That’s right!” the guy booms. “Daddy the Bullet is here to safely and speedily transport darlings in distress to where they are needed most! Hold on tight—and go!”
I look toward the end of the aisle, and a second later, a guy about my age sprints past with the elated little girl thrown over one shoulder, the DVD clutched in her small hands.
I laugh wholeheartedly.
It’s at times like this that I really wish I could have what that guy has.
I don’t waste more than a few seconds on the wish, though, because it’ll never be realized. I’ve known for a long time that no one with Light blood can reproduce, even if they try to do so with a normal human versus another Light person. Disheartening as it is, it makes sense. If a Light person created a human child, they’d want to tell them about Hellions but wouldn’t really be able to. Even if they tried to raise the child with a simple belief in Light people, what good would it do the kid if they couldn’t see Hellions for themselves? And it’s impossible to birth a Light child. So it’s a no-go all around.
I put the thoughts out of my mind and carry on.
After a few hours, once most of the stores in town are open, I decide to search out a birthday present for Beatrix while I work. She’ll be most pleased with the dragon earring Wes mentioned buying the other day, so I don’t feel like I need to spend too much time poring over my options. I end up at the mall because there are bazillions of possibilities, and I know I’m bound to find something.
Though it’s not quite what I planned on finding at the mall this early, I spot two Hellions. I call Wes for the second time this morning.
He’s perfectly capable of handling them himself, but he still asks, “Want to split the kills?” when he shows up. He nods toward the monsters, which are walking a ways in front of us, looking rancid and out of place to no one but us two.
“It’s up to you,” I tell him unconcernedly. “We can knock them out together or you can have a little fun taking them on by yourself.”
“Eh, well,” he squints in mock-deliberation, “they are in a really public place….”
I nod thoughtfully, playing along. “More and more people are showing up by the minute.”
“What kind of sick bastard would I look like should someone happen upon me gutting two seemingly normal fellas?”
“We should definitely be responsible,” I say as the Hellions turn into the food court, “and kill them super fast.”
“Super fast and super furious.”
“Just like the other day, huh?”
Wes holds a strong fist up. “It’s what we do best.”
Well, it’s what he does best, but whatever. I don’t see any white Radiances around and, yeah, better to be efficient than insist he kill them alone.
The Hellions head toward two of the food stands closest to the restrooms. They seem to be debating something (could it really be food? To be honest, I’m not sure if they even eat food) when a young mother and her little girl step out of the women’s restroom. The Hellions go still and openly stare.
The mother is talking on her cell phone while the girl trots along, but she takes a second to snap her fingers and command, “Hey, come back!” as her daughter approaches the Hellions.
The girl waves and yells, “Hi!”
Wes and I stop near the little group, feigning interest in the food stands as the mother ends her phone call and hurries over.
“Trinity, quit bothering people!” She looks at the Hellions like she thinks they’re attractive and is embarrassed that her kid is hollering at them.
If only she knew that the man bending down to see eye-to-eye with her daughter is actually completely skinless.
“Oh, that’s okay, Mommy,” his voice rumbles loudly. “A girl this pretty is no bother.”
The other has skin, but he’s covered in jagged slashes like he was whipped with barbed wire. His human disguise must be the polar opposite, because he approaches the woman confidently and she doesn’t back away whatsoever.
He asks her coyly, “Does she get her gregariousness from her mother, or just her charm?”
The woman smiles in delight and says flirtatiously, “That’s a big word.”
Her little girl squeals, “I’m four!”
The Hellion in front of her looks at his cohort. “Four is such a good age, isn’t it?” The words are dripping with filthy pleasure. He looks at the woman and says, “Our families are extensive—children everywhere, and for some reason, they all seem to be the most fun around this time.”
Wes makes a faint noise of repugnance at the same time that my stomach turns unpleasantly. We know the truth: these sons of bitches have been around that many small children because they’re pedophiles.
“Bathroom, then come back out?” Wes mumbles.
“Mmhmm.”
We pretend to ignore the group as we skirt past.
After spending a minute in the restroom, we hear the skinless Hellion rumble less vociferously than before, “I like them. Wonderful child, oblivious mother.”
They must be alone again. Wes and I look at each other. “Get that one,” he mouths.
The other Hellion muses that he rather likes the woman. They’re beginning to discuss how to get the pair somewhere more ideal for abduction than the middle of the mall, so Wes and I walk out.
It wouldn’t be smart to yank them back into the restrooms to kill them because the people working at these food stands are sure to notice something like that, and also cameras would probably catch it. The safest option is to follow the pair as they head in what I assume is the direction the mother and child went in.
Our opportunity arrives shortly. The Hellions follow their targets into JC Penney and decide to spy on them from behind a bunch of towering, cluttered-up merchandise. We check to make sure there aren’t any people or cameras close by, and then we’re right behind them…literally. They’re too busy eyeballing the woman and child to notice us.
Once we’re behind the slashed-up one, Wes gets right to it. He kneels down, produces his dagger and swipes it across the backs of the monster’s knees. The Hellion lets out a surprised screech.
The skinless one’s first reaction is to jump between the two of them, but after a second, he realizes I’m with Wes and thus a danger to him. This revelation comes to him too late—my dagger is already drawn when he turns toward me, and he lunges right into the blade. He cries out in fury or pain or both, and while he does that, I yank out my dagger and then sink it into his thigh. Now he’s got two disintegrating wounds, making it even easier to drag him to the floor where Wes has just finished handling the other one.
In a matter of moments, the total of flaky, dusty piles on the ground is two. We straighten our clothes, put our daggers away, and leave with no one in the store suspecting anything. Humans can’t hear Hellions’ true voices, only the disguised voices they use and only when the Hellions want them to. When faced with such a sudden and weighty moment as this past one, the Hellions have no time to arrange their disguise. They’re just themselves, so the only beings that know what’s happening are them and us; no one else heard them screaming.
“I’m happy we got them,” Wes says. “The ones that hurt kids are the fucking worst.”
“They really are,” I agree.
I think back to the little girl from Wal-Mart—Charlotte. The idea of someone even considering harming her makes my blood boil. She has her father on her side and he clearly loves her, but even he wouldn’t stand a chance against a Hellion. Me, though? I stand a really good chance against the enemy. Maybe I’ll never have what that guy has, but what I will have, until the day I die, is the ability to keep families like his safe. And I will accept that substitution gladly and with honor.
I can’t wait to tell Marienne. I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear we prevented what was sure to be a heartbreaking—and probably gruesome—story from unfolding.
Wes and I decide to just stick together. He helps me pick out a funny birthday card for Beatrix, and he picks out a very sappy husband-to-wife one for himself. Then he says she’d probably like a gift card to Bath & Body Works, so I get her one and he finally buys the dragon earring.
“I bet you twenty bucks she cries,” I say to him.
He looks at me contemplatively. “I bet you twenty bucks she screams and cries.”
I nod. “It’s on.”
“On and on. And just in case you’re wondering, I don’t care if it’s a whole twenty-dollar bill or if it’s a couple of tens. Whatever. Just don’t write me a check.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future, when I lose a bet to you that isn’t this one. And who the hell writes checks?”
He chuckles. “People who think credit cards are manufactured in hell.”
“Ridiculous. Checks have your address and stuff on them. Plastic is just your name and two inches’ worth of numbers, and it’s easy to protect.”
“No shit,” he agrees, sounding like he really is bothered by people’s continued use of checks.
I can’t help but laugh.
A little while later, over lunch, he says, “So, B kind of loves Mari.”
“Already?” I ask, even though I’m not that surprised.
“Okay, she really loves her,” he amends. “I thought you and I were good friends to that crazy woman, but apparently, having another girl around is top fun.” He laughs a little and shakes his head.
“I understand that, I guess.” I smile. “Marienne is great.”
He nods. “Leaps and goddamn bounds better than that girl you liked way back when.”
I know who he means—Ella—and I groan just at the thought of her. “She was fucking terrible. I didn’t even like her, I just….” Embarrassed by the cheap relationship I had with her, I wave my hand around dismissively. “She doesn’t deserve to even be compared to Marienne.”
Wes laughs heartily now. “Nothing sucks like thinking back on your mistakes, huh?” He tsks and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just giving you a hard time, dude. I know that was just one of those things we all go through in our lives.”
“One of those humiliating, immature,” I say slowly, “a-lesson-hard-learned things.”
He absently cracks his knuckles. “Been there, done that, not going back.”
“Not ever.” I take a bite of my food.
“Okay, so, different subject. Kind of.”
I nod my acknowledgement.
“B wants all four of us to hang out.”
The statement both puzzles and cheers me. After I swallow my food, I ask, “Really?”
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Yeah, really. I think she wants us all to be closer because of Em’s sudden death, but like I said, she also enjoys being around Mari—and so do you. I told her I’d ask you about it, but you and Mari aren’t dating, so I didn’t know if it’d be weird. At least, I don’t think you’re dating each other.”
I shake my head a little. “No, we’re not, but….”
He raises an eyebrow. “Mmmhmmm.”
“What?”
“You’re not dating, buuuut—” he rolls his head around in a dramatic circle before leveling a knowing look on me, “—you’re pretty fucking interested.”
I laugh. “Well-spotted.”
“What can I say? I know what a guy looks like when he digs a girl.” He holds up his left hand so I can see his black wedding band.
Still amused, I say, “Right.”
He winks. “So I can tell B a group hang isn’t completely out of the question?”
I shrug a shoulder. “It’s fine with me.”
“Sweet. Thanks.”
“Yep. A happy Beatrix makes for a happy Weston, huh?”
He nods. “That’s it.” As he leans forward to go back to his food, he sighs. “We all deserve to be happy.”