Jamming my belongings into my backpack and transferring some MRE’s from Heath’s pack, I fought to hold back further tears.
I didn’t want to carry out my search alone. It made sense to stick together, safety in numbers and all that.
As stupid as it was, I also had to admit… it made me sick to think I’d never lay eyes on Heath again.
And that was bad. How could I travel with him now that I knew what I knew? How could I believe anything he said ever again? I wasn’t sure.
I also wasn’t sure how the people at the Haven might react if Heath showed up there without me.
He wasn’t like them—us. Would they reject Daniel? Send him away?
A tide of protective emotion welled up inside me.
By the time the screen door creaked open behind me, I knew what I had to do. I whirled around to face Heath, who was holding Daniel tightly and staring at me with soulful eyes, his beautiful lips pulled into a grim line.
He said nothing, only waited for me to speak.
“Fine.” I bit out finally. “As you said before, we’re going to the same place, we might as well go together—for Daniel’s sake. But when we find the Haven, if we find it, I’m going to be honest—right up front—with the people there about your identity. No more secrets.”
“No more secrets,” he agreed. “Thank you, Reya.”
I turned on my heel and stepped toward the cabin door, pulling my pack onto my back.
“Let’s get going before these goons wake up or before one of the neighbors calls the local authorities. I can’t take any more surprises today.”
We hiked back into the woods, following the markings on the map toward another of the abandoned logging camps.
This hike was different from yesterday’s. Our surroundings were still beautiful and peaceful, but the interior view wasn’t quite so pleasant. I was filled with turmoil.
A frosty silence prickled between me and Heath, broken only by the crunch of old leaves and twigs snapping under our feet.
As young as he was, Daniel was blissfully unaware of the elephant stampeding through the room.
After he’d been assured the “bad men” weren’t coming after us and we’d put some time and distance between ourselves and the cabin, he relaxed, skipping along, pointing out birds, and wildflowers, and interesting rocks.
Picking up smaller ones and throwing them at the mossy tree trunks, he celebrated when one made contact.
When we took a break and stopped for lunch, Heath attempted to end the conversational impasse.
“I’d like to explain about the Retrievers, about what the leader said back there.”
I didn’t even glance up from the MRE’s I was preparing. “Retrievers? Is that what they’re called? Mercenaries seems more like it. And it’s not necessary to explain. You don’t owe me anything. We’re traveling companions—not friends.”
“Reya…”
Now I did look up, pinning him with an accusatory glare. “Don’t call me that. Only my friends call me Reya. And I’d rather not talk, if that’s okay with you. I’ve got a headache from being slammed to the ground earlier by your father’s henchmen.”
He winced at my surly tone. Lifting his own pack, he withdrew a bottle of pain reliever and stretched out his arm, offering it to me.
I thought about ignoring the gesture, but my head really was pounding. I snatched it from his hand without a word of thanks.
Truth be told, it wasn’t only my head that hurt. I felt exactly like I’d been in hand-to-hand combat with several large men. A muscle in my back was strained, I’d torn nearly all the fingernails on one hand, and my toe ached from kicking an extremely thick shin guard.
The worst was my hip. The spot where the first Retriever had used his wand on me throbbed with its own heartbeat.
By tonight, the bruise there was going to be the size of a grapefruit.
Not that I would mention any of this to Heath. I didn’t plan to say any more than was absolutely necessary to communicate with him about our route and other practical matters.
Only Daniel’s happy chatter kept lunch from being a silent affair. Afterward, we packed up again and walked the rest of the way to the next historical campsite.
This one was even less promising than the first. Its cabins were literally falling in on themselves, and the grass and weeds surrounding them were like a hay field.
There was no sanctuary here.
I walked over to Heath, who’d unfolded the map and was studying it.
“There’s one more possibility,” he said. “It’s here in the foothills of this mountain.”
He tapped the spot with his index finger. “It’s going to be more remote than this one or the last. Probably an uphill climb, too. You up for it?”
I shrugged. “What else are we going to do? Are you sure Daniel can make it that far?”
We both looked up, turning our heads to search for him.
The boy waved from atop a small boulder. “Look how high I am,” he yelled.
Heath chuckled. “I think he’s got more energy than you and I combined. My only concern is if we hike to this one today, we’ll be too deep in the park to hike back out tonight—you know, if we don’t find what we’re looking for. And there are no active campgrounds or ranger stations near it.”
“Well, let’s hope we do find it. If not, we can camp outdoors. I want to get this over with.”
Once again, he gave me a long look, his mouth working as if he wanted to say something. All he said was, “Okay. Let’s go.”
He refolded the map, and we headed for the trail that would take us deeper into the park and to the foot of Hawksbill mountain.
He wasn’t kidding about the uphill part. Even if I hadn’t been scraped and bruised, it would have been a challenging hike.
Before we reached the old campground, Daniel’s energy did run out, and Heath lifted the boy onto his shoulders to carry him the remaining distance.
We reached the camp about an hour before nightfall. The sun was already low in the sky, dipping beneath the tree line and casting long shadows on the cluster of small buildings that wrapped around the clearing in a u shape.
Unlike the others we’d found, these were in decent condition. The roofs were intact as well as the windows. The grass around them was low.
Some spots nearest the cabins had no grass at all, apparently worn smooth by foot traffic.
Heath and I looked at each other. His brows lifted. “Has potential.”
I nodded in agreement. “It’s pretty far out here for day hikers. And the ranger said the road up this way was closed because of flooding damage. People who travel here are here for a reason.”
“Let’s see what we can find. I’ll check out this one,” he said.
“I’ll go next door.”
I walked to the next cabin, hope infusing new energy into my tired feet and legs. It drained out again as soon as I opened the door. There was nothing inside but a warped wooden table and a chair with two legs.
The short kitchen counter was coated with dust, as was the floor.
I backed out and went to the cabin next to it, no longer filled with expectation. Rather, a sense of resignation was settling over me.
We weren’t going to find the Haven.
I was going to have to come up with a Plan B of sorts for my life. How long could the three of us really stay on the road, searching? We didn’t even know where to look next.
And if we weren’t searching for the Haven together, I had no reason to stay with them.
The third cabin was the same as the last, except the floor of this one was a bit cleaner. It contained a sad-looking bed instead of a table and chair.
No one lived here. I emerged to find Heath coming out of a cabin on the other side of the U.
“Find anything?” he asked.
“No. You?’
He shook his head, looking tired. “No. I really hoped this one was it. It looks like people have been here, based on the grounds, but the cabins definitely haven’t been used recently.”
“Same for the ones I checked. So what now?”
He glanced up at the sky. “We make camp, before the light’s gone completely. Tomorrow… I don’t know. Tomorrow we’ll have to figure out where to go from here.”
As he’d done the night before, Heath made a fire on a bare patch in the clearing. Daniel helped gather kindling wood and enthusiastically fed pieces into the fire as Heath allowed him to.
When he’d gotten over the novelty of throwing twigs into the flames, the little boy looked around.
“Where are we gonna sleep? In one of those cabins?”
“No. Those are really dusty. And there aren’t any beds,” Heath explained. “We’re going to sleep outside under the stars, like real campers.”
“But…” the child’s lower lip stuck out. “What if the bad men come back?”
Heath walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“They won’t. We beat them up—they’re too scared to mess with us again. Besides, we’ve walked really far from the place they found us, right?”
Daniel nodded, not looking entirely convinced.
“Okay, want to help me set up the camp?” Heath said. “We’ll get to try out those new sleeping bags, and maybe tonight’s MRE’s will even have some marshmallows and chocolate. We could make s’mores.”
Heath’s obvious attempt at distraction worked like a charm.
“I’ve always wanted to make s’mores!” Daniel clapped his hands.
“Great. We’ll let Mireya handle that part, and you can help me find some more wood for the fire, so it’ll keep burning nice and warm all night.”
I searched both mine and Heath’s backpacks, praying to find anything resembling marshmallows and chocolate. Marshmallows were a bust. I did find chocolate and shortbread cookies.
There was some taffy that would no doubt get gooey if held over the heat. I decided we’d have to settle for that.
Daniel did not complain about the substitution. I couldn’t help but smile at how fast he stuffed the melted sugary mess into his small mouth.
“Don’t you want some, Mireya?” he asked through chocolate-rimmed lips.
“No. I’m still full from dinner.” I rubbed my belly to indicate its fullness. “Want my s’mores?”
“Yes! Thank you.”
“One more and that’s it,” Heath scolded. “You’re going to be awake all night with all that sugar in your system.”
As it turned out, the sugar was no match for fresh air and exercise. Daniel nodded off to sleep about five minutes after Heath helped him wash his face and hands in the stream that ran behind the cabins.
I couldn’t blame the kid. It had been a long day, and the sound of running water was relaxing.
Tomorrow I’d check out the stream for myself and maybe take a bath if it was deep enough.
The cold water might help with my aches and pains, and God knew I could use a bath after all the hiking and sweating I’d done today.
For tonight, though, I wasn’t going anywhere beyond the ring of light surrounding the campfire.
“Did you hear that?” I hissed at Heath, jumping at the crack of a branch somewhere nearby and craning my neck to peer into the pitch-dark woods in the direction of the startling noise.
He looked up from his position on a stump across the campfire. “It’s nothing—a squirrel jumping. You’re not used to hearing wild animals.”
“And you are?”
“No. But we’ve been seeing squirrels and chipmunks all day. You’re only noticing them now because it’s dark and we’re sitting still.”
“I guess.” I hoped it was true. I much preferred being inside a structure with doors and windows that closed.
For the next half hour or so, I kept my head on a swivel, scanning the perimeter of the clearing for any sort of movement, my ears attuned to the slightest woodsy sounds.
Though my body was tired, my brain was nowhere near ready for sleep. The forest around us seemed alive.
Were we absolutely certain all the large, predatory animals had died in the Calamity?
Had we left enough of a trail for the Retrievers to follow us? The idea of closing my eyes and making myself vulnerable to… whatever was out there seemed like sheer stupidity.
Heath showed no signs of preparing for bed either. He simply sat and stared into the fire, appearing to be deep in thought.
Feeling my limbs growing heavy and my eyelids starting to droop, I decided to suspend my moratorium on conversation with him. I doubted I’d ever believe another word he said, but at least talking would keep me awake.
I checked first to make sure Daniel was still sleeping.
“So… the thing you wanted to tell me last night in bed—I mean, before we went to sleep—I guess that was it, huh? You still work for your father. You weren’t really a delivery truck operator.”
“No. That part was true. I really did leave the research job—much to my father’s dismay. But you were right about the other part. It wasn’t a coincidence I intercepted you when you escaped the base and showed up outside Gideon Corp.”
I knew it. This trip—our entire relationship, if you could even call it that—had been based on a lie.
“Your dad sent you.”
“I volunteered. I know you’re going to doubt anything I have to say at this point, but I was trying to protect you, Reya. You saw how my father’s goons operate. If I hadn’t volunteered, he would have sent them instead.”
My eyes narrowed to a squint. “And what exactly did you ‘volunteer’ to do? What did Gideon tell you to do with me?”
He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Observe, interact… stay with you and find out how you were doing, you know, cognitively and emotionally.”
My jaw dropped. “He wanted you to study me.”
Heath’s eyes came up to meet mine, and the look in them—guilt mixed with sorrow—tugged at my heart.
My stupid, stupid heart, which apparently had no short-term memory.
No. I couldn’t let it win in this situation. My brain knew better now.
“Is that why you took me to the beach? To see how ‘new sensory input’ affected the ‘subject?’” I snarled.
“I took you to the beach because that’s where you wanted to go. Yes, I was instructed to study you—your escape caught my father’s attention in a big way—but I wanted to be with you. Don’t you see? I’d been forbidden to ever see you again, and then suddenly I was given permission to be with you as much as I wanted. It was almost too good to be true… an opportunity I never thought I’d have.”
I sniffed, unconvinced. “Did Gideon tell you to go ‘on the run’ with us? Was finding the Haven part of the script you were given to keep me with you so you could keep studying me? Is there even anything out here?”
Sweeping my arm in an arc, I indicated the dark wildness surrounding us.
“No—God no, Reya—there’s no script. I haven’t been on the ‘company plan’ since I decided to remove all our chips and leave my car and phone behind. My father knows nothing about the Haven. He had no idea we were leaving Atlanta.”
“Then how did the soldiers find us?”
He poked at the fire with a long stick, causing a flurry of bright flecks to rise above it. He watched them with serious eyes.
“Good question. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I would never have put you and Daniel at risk of being harmed.”
It was quiet for a while as I thought about what he’d said. It made sense. If you were willing to take things at face value.
Which I definitely wasn’t sure I was.
“Well, you could have told me your real name,” I said. “If we really were… close before, like you said, then I would have understood. I understood before, right? You can’t help who you’re born to—or how.”
“You didn’t know about that part before, either. You never knew whose son I was.”
“Oh. So you’ve always lied to me then. Good to know.”
I stood and went to the edge of the campfire ring, staring into its heat and mesmerizing light with my back to Heath.
See, stupid heart? This is why we don’t get all soft and mushy about the cute boy.
When Heath spoke again, his voice was right behind me and very gentle. “Not lied. I just left out some details. I wanted you to like me. Please look at me, Reya.”
Reluctantly, I turned around to face him. My back was to the fire now, which didn’t stop a shiver from working its way through my body at the look on his face.
“I was ashamed—of my father and some of the things he’s done,” he said. “… of some of the things I’ve done on his orders. I only wanted to be normal. Just Heath. Not the kid of a genius billionaire who’s, at best, a polarizing figure and at worst, a villain.”
Tilting his head back, he turned his chin side to side, like he was searching the treetops around us for the right words. When his eyes came back to mine, they burned with the reflected firelight and an earnestness that stole my breath.
“I don’t know if you can possibly understand this,” he said. “But I’ve always felt… different… wrong. You know?”
I did know. Did I ever. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. Out of all the things he’d said, that affected me the most.
Was that why we’d connected before? I mean, other than the insane physical attraction we had to each other. Was it a case of two outcasts finding a kindred spirit in each other? Since my memories of our earlier relationship had been stolen, it was hard to say.
But I knew I felt a connection to him now. His sincere plea touched my heart. And the pain on his face as he poured out his heart was tearing me up inside.
I might not have been certain of what it felt like to be loved, but I was certain of one thing—I loved him.
