Resistance (10 page)

She was okay at first, and I told myself things would
be fine. I mean, she weighs about one hundred pounds soaking wet —
how much damage could she do? Just as she grazed the corner of the
album with her fingertips I heard the shelf she was bracing her
left foot on crack, and when she tried to compensate with her
hands, that shelf broke too. It was sheer dumb luck that I managed
to catch her before she hit the concrete floor and cracked her
skull open. It goes without saying that she had the damn album
clutched in her hand when she fell, and now has it stashed with the
rest of her collection in her closet. She downplayed the incident
of course, because she’s Fi and that’s her way. If it had been me
who had fallen, she would have put me in a bubble and locked me up
just to be safe. I really wish she would take as much care with her
own well-being as she does with mine. I don’t think she realizes
how important she is to those of us who know and love her. I do my
best to make her see, but I don’t know how successful I am.

I make my way through the house in the dark easily. I
do a lot of late night skulking, so my night vision is excellent. I
close my bedroom door behind me right as I hear people approaching
the house outside. I kick my shoes off quickly and fling myself
forward into my bed, almost tripping over a pile of books and
clothes I’ve been meaning to pick up for a week or so. I hear the
back door open and my sister calling my name, and I grab my
comforter and drag it over my body. I wouldn’t be surprised if she
poked her head in to see if I am really asleep, so it’s definitely
a good idea to be thorough in my deception.

I listen intently as she kicks her shoes off in the
kitchen and asks someone if they want coffee. I hear a male voice
with an excessively teasing tone and a Scottish accent accept her
offer, and then her soft footfalls coming down the hallway towards
my room. I focus on making my breathing deep and even, close my
eyes and stay as still as possible. There is a quiet knock, then I
hear the door squeak open and Fi says softly, “Eir, are you
awake?”

Part of me would like very much to roll over and tell
her to come in and talk to me. Especially when her emotions hit me;
all her fear and sadness, the frustration and uncertainty that she
carries around with her. But that loud, angry part of me won’t give
in. So I stay still and hear her sigh sadly and back out of my
room, closing the door softly behind her. I feel like scum, but I
lay here and tell myself that it’s better this way for now. There
is too much going on in my head that I know I can’t explain to her
satisfaction. And while I realize it’s extremely childish of me to
hold it against her, I’m stung that she doesn’t believe me like she
used to. So I embrace the cliché and act like a ten year old
instead. I listen as Fi’s footsteps retreat back down the hallway
to the kitchen so she can deal with the next headache waiting for
her attention, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so small
before.

Chapter 7—Flint

April 2102

Between the irritating ticking sound of the clock on
the wall and the mass amounts of iron in the Dolan’s building, my
head is throbbing from a migraine within an hour of being here. I
push myself off the bed quietly and stretch my arms over my head.
The worn springs whine as I stand and I hesitate a moment,
expecting Fianna to jump out and demand I go back to my assigned
position, but the house remains quiet. Knowing I could very well
have a half-awake guard outside my door with some sort of iron
piece, I pad over to the window and slip out of the house;
desperately in need of fresh air. Even the slight chill of spring
is a comfort after breathing in iron and salt for several
hours.

I don’t go far, only a couple of feet into the trees,
and lie down in the grass. If I thought I could get away with it,
I’d stay out here stargazing rather than inhaling poisonous fumes
of iron. I can almost feel my life expectancy shortening when I’m
in there, though I’m sure I won’t have much of a life expectancy at
all if Fianna finds me outside.

No sooner do I get comfortable than I hear the front
door creak open and watch it shed light a few yards into the street
in front of the house. I huff, expecting her royal highness to come
stomping around the corner shouting at me, but she doesn’t come.
Maybe she’s got another one of her highly illegal weapons pointed
at me?

After a moment of silence I shift, glance up and see
her brother, the boy who stormed out of the meeting, pulling the
door closed in near silence. The guards are stationed out back,
pacing around aimlessly, oblivious to the kid sneaking out the
front. Why I’m surprised…I really don’t know. Time has already told
me that the henchmen here are comically unreliable — I shouldn’t be
shocked at all that no one is guarding the front entrance.

I pull myself into a sitting position as the boy
slowly moves away from the door with his back to me. He stands
frozen; looking as though he’s ready to bolt at any moment, and I
can only assume he’s listening for his sister. I glance to her
window and let out a breath when I see her light is still off.
While it would be hilarious to see just how red her face could get,
I really don’t want to hear the bitch fit right now…or dodge
bullets. Too tired.

Her brother relaxes slightly but still looks
skeptical. He shakes his head and starts walking away, his
footsteps nearly silent. I have never heard a human walk so
quietly.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I’m on my feet.
Realizing I am following him out of pure wonder, I take a blunt
left as soon as he’s in sight, taking advantage of my speed and
managing to place myself in front of him. Leaning on a tree, I
feign shock when he gets close enough to see me. His hand twitches
and shoots behind him, but doesn’t snap back with a weapon. He’s
looking me over, trying to assess if someone half his size is
really a threat.

“I won’t tell Fi if you don’t,” I offer, looking up
at him calmly. Damn, I think. This kid is stupid tall… I wonder if
this is really Fi’s brother? She’s three and a half years older and
he’s at least a foot and a half taller.

The look on his face clearly says he doesn’t believe
that I’ve been sitting out here, in the middle of nowhere in the
middle of the night, but he actually grins and nods. “Follow
me.”

I’m taken aback by the friendliness. I recover
quickly though and shrug. “Sure.”

He continues past me and I follow, trusting I’m not
about to be skinned for some reason, or worse, ratted out to his
sister. I’m not sure why but I don’t think he’s nearly as twitchy
as her, but I suppose the fact he didn’t pull a blade on me on
sight should give me some sort of hope.

When did I get so stupid? I wonder. Perhaps I’ve
inhaled too much iron tonight.

“I’m Flint,” I finally say, breaking the silence.
Eirnin doesn’t seem uncomfortable with the quiet at all, but I
guess I’m just typically uncomfortable walking around with humans I
don’t know. Go figure.

“Eirnin,” he replies; shooting a smile over his
shoulder. “Nice to meet you. It’s impossible to get near you at
home right now.”

“It’s impossible to go to the bathroom alone in your
house right now,” I correct him and he laughs; ducking around a
tree. He steps onto a dirt pathway and waves me forward, then
breaks into a full run when he knows I can see where he’s gone. The
old stone building of what used to be an old book store still
stands proudly at the end of it, even after the war ravaged the
planet. It has a few chunks missing here and there, and one side of
it is almost completely blown open, but it looks better than most
everything else the humans’ chaos touched.

“Well come on!” Eirnin calls, waving his hands above
his head. “Before someone sees you.”

I glance behind me to double check his paranoia and
shake my head. The night is dead around us, the only corruption
being a bird’s nest overhead — and even they are sound asleep.
Nonetheless I jog to meet him and follow him as he steps into the
store. The inside is a stark difference to the exterior; the wood
shining as if it’s been buffed for countless hours, the books in
alphabetical order by author’s surname. It’s quite obvious Fi and
Eirnin have occupied it for some time. Gapes in the shelves show
missing horror and suspense novels, and even a few romances.

“Things can be a bit loud back home,” Eirnin says
suddenly. “I prefer the quiet here. No one wants anything from me.
I wanted to bring Fi here, you know. She never has time to just
hang out anymore, though.” His lips twist in a deep frown and he
shakes his head before looking away from me.

I frown and wonder if Fi realizes how ignored she’s
making her little brother feel. He takes a seat in one of the
chairs beside a low table and I follow suit; collapsing gracelessly
on the couch close to it. “Your sister doesn’t strike me as one who
just…sits down and loses herself in someone else’s life.” I clear
my throat to keep the question out of my statement. There’s a part
of me that would like to believe Fianna has more than the spiky
outer layer she’s shown me so far, but I’m not getting my hopes
up.

Eirnin looks at me for a minute and I almost squirm
under his intense stare. It’s like he’s looking straight through me
into depths no one is permitted to see, and I’m severely unsettled
by the feeling. Then, to make matters worse, he throws his head
back and bursts out laughing. I bite my lip and shift to sit up.
“The hell is so funny?”

“Fi is happiest when she’s stuck in a book,” he says,
ignoring my question. “She used to hole up in the library in our
house for hours. She’d camp there for whole weekends if our mother
left her alone. Fi loves reading and she loves learning about other
times and places.” He pauses and looks as though he’s said too
much.

“So I’m just terrible at reading people, then?” I ask
him with a grin. I honestly can’t wrap my head around little Fi
sitting in a library, hiding behind a couch reading a book she’s
too young to understand and hoping her parents don’t catch her, but
I try not to show it.

Eir returns the smile and shakes his head. “No,
you’re probably really good at reading people…just not my sister.
She doesn’t really fit anyone’s mold of who she ‘should’ be. She’s
just… Fi.” I must have a blank look on my face without realizing
it, because he continues on. “You’ll see what I mean. Give it
time,” he says knowingly and winks at me.

I repress the urge to ask
what
he’s implying
and just smile. “I hope you’re right.”
Not really.
“So tell
me… Just how much trouble would you get in if she knew you were out
here? With
me
?”

Eir looks a bit scared by the thought. He coughs and
shakes his head; his eyes still wide in spite of his trying to hide
his evident panic at the mere thought of Fi knowing anything about
this. “Uh…well, ‘a lot’ would be an understatement.” He sighs and
then scowls. “I swear, ever since my parents left it’s like I need
a guard to take a walk down the hallway in our house! She’s been
crazy with this protective streak and it’s driving me nuts. I know
she’s worried—I get it—but I’m not some useless little brat who
can’t defend himself.”

“I’m sure she’s just being overly cautious—” I try;
an image of my own little sister flashing in my mind.

“She doesn’t take a guard with her when she takes a
run every morning!” Eir cries, looking sad. “So I told her when she
starts using one, then so will I.” He pauses and shudders. “You’re
lucky you weren’t here for that fight.”

I can’t help but chuckle at the thought—tiny little
Fianna stamping her feet on the ground and yelling up at her
extremely tall younger brother. I can see her face getting red and
flipping her hair and storming off, though I don’t share these
things. “I can’t imagine you didn’t have a migraine after that
ordeal.”

The irritated look melts off his face and he looks
sad again. “Fi never used to yell…at all. She cleaned house at
poker. Not many people can read her. Only when she got scared would
she ever yell, and Fi is close to fearless. Since our parents left,
though, I can tell she’s getting a little bit closer to an
explosion every day. I still keep pushing her though…” He looks
over at me. “Does that make me a prick?”

“You’re not a prick,” I answer. “You’re her little
brother. You’re supposed to push her past her limits and then keep
on being annoying as hell.”

He chuckles a little and I smirk. No frowns on my
watch — to hell with that. “I guess you’re right,” he says. “If
she’d just listen to me I think I could make her feel better, but
she doesn’t even hear me.” He shakes his head and shrugs. “Sorry,
man. You don’t need to hear this. I’m just not used to her not
believing me.”