The Torrent (The New Agenda Series Book 4) (3 page)

5

A
va tried to
not to stare at Morray as he sat on the floor with his legs crossed. He looked out of character with his suit jacket unbuttoned and no longer sporting his signature black shiny shoes and socks. She giggled at his lily-white feet.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Your feet.”

“And?”

“They blend in with the floors. Reminds me a scene from
Barefoot in the Park,
with Robert Redford and Jane Fonda.”

Ava loved classic films from the twentieth century. The art form had died centuries ago with the Repatterning, but when she lived inside the Los Angeles City Center, she’d get films off the dark market. It was worth the risk of getting caught for breaking Morray’s strict rules. After the walls came down, she made sure to instill classic films back into culture—one of her smaller, but more satisfying, contributions when she worked on the council. She didn’t like the city, but she enjoyed taking her daughter to see a movie once or twice a month in New Los Angeles. That was before Grace turned into a teenager, when hanging out with her mother was still fun. When the theater lights would lower and the screen filled up with endless possibilities of new adventures, Grace’s eyes would dance. She missed their special bonding moments. She missed everything about Grace.

“That was a good one.” Morray’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“What?”

“
Barefoot in the Park
.”

“Mm hmm. Always loved watching characters overcome their greatest obstacles within a two-hour time frame. Gave me such hope.”

“I was obsessed with the classics when I was younger. Audrey Hepburn was my dream girl,” he said.

“Roman Holiday is my favorite!” Ava’s enthusiasm shocked her, but she was happy to finally talk about something they could agree upon.

Morray stared at Ava, a longing in his eyes. “After the Repatterning things changed. I didn’t have time for movies.”

“Hard to find time when you’re destroying the world, huh?”

“That’s simply not true.”

“Your denial is astounding …”

“You saw my archives. I didn’t destroy anything. Why do you continue to badger me?”

“Back off.” She shoved him away and took a step back.

He moved in closer and poked the top of her head. “I know you’re an obstinate one, but for once, I’d like you to get this straight: I never wanted to annihilate anything. That was my father’s master plan. He and his bastard elites were the ones who implemented the Repatterning and the New Agenda.
I
wanted to fix what he broke.”

“You could’ve stopped it, Morray. Locked up the elites and let them die off instead of doling out life extensions.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” His voice turned sharp. “The elites held Phoenix over my head.”

“But Phoenix died so early on. You could’ve ended it then.”

“You think just because he died they wouldn’t go after his family, his bloodline? I had to protect them. Who knows, your precious Joseph might be of his decent.”

Ava didn’t want to think about her husband possibly having traces of Morray’s genes. “Okay, I guess your effort to protect the Outsiders was a noble cause. But there was still Ret-Hav––your glorious retirement package that included experiments on anyone who no longer fit into your system.”

“Yes, I admit, I got carried away with that one. But my intentions were always to advance society. To make things better.”

“By destroying life.”

He rubbed his temples. “I rebuilt a new society. And with Dickson’s assistance, we
created
new life. I didn’t take it. We’ve been over this enough. Will you please let it go?”

Anger roared in Ava’s ears as she remembered the irrevocable acts against thousands of innocent city center residents. He was asking her to
let it go
? She wanted to pummel Morray to the ground. “Never.” She sneered.

He grabbed her shoulders, digging his fingers through the yarn of her sweater. “Haven’t I told you,
never say never
?”

She tried to pull away, but he only gripped harder. His face reddened and his eyes bulged. She hadn’t seen him lose control like this before. Usually Morray kept his composure locked in.

Ava yanked away. “Get your hands off me!”

Morray’s fingers caught onto the sweater and tore a hole across the neckline, exposing her chest. She covered herself with her arms, mortified.

He stepped back, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Ava. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“That’s always been your problem. You never
mean
to hurt anyone, but that’s what you do.” Ava’s anger slipped into an embarrassing wave of vulnerability. Unable to contain her emotions, tears welled in her eyes.

“Please forgive me. This place is getting to me.” He held out his handkerchief.

The rumpled piece of cloth struck her as funny. She wasn’t used to seeing anything of Morray’s so imperfect. He had always maintained a flawless appearance. She waved it away, not wanting his sympathy.

“I’m fine.” She stiffened.

Morray stepped closer, gently wiping Ava’s face with his handkerchief. “Hopefully Dickson will find a way to get us out of here soon,” he said.

“I’m starting to lose my mind a little bit.”

“That’s impossible. You’re too strong willed, my dear.”

Ava smiled, and before she knew what was happening, Morray reached around her shoulders and gave her a hug. The human contact was so comforting that she dropped her head against his shoulder and let him hold her.
This is wrong, wrong, wrong,
a voice within shouted. She ignored her instincts. It felt nice to be consoled. Her defenses crumbled away and she went blank.
There is no today. There was no yesterday
. She pressed closer against Morray’s chest, letting herself relax. His comforting embrace made her forget her sadness, her longing for Grace, and her need for Joseph.
Nothing but this moment, and this moment is nothing.
She slipped into a haze. Nothing mattered. It wasn’t real, anyway. Warmth spread throughout and the tension drifted away. Morray’s heartbeat thumped against her cheek. He stroked her hair and exhaled as though he were releasing three centuries worth of suffering.

“I won’t hurt you again. I promise,” he whispered.

His voice echoed within, reverberating all around her. Then she remembered he was the enemy. Whatever was happening needed to stop. She pushed herself away and stepped backward, covering the hole in her sweater. “This will never happen again. I don’t care how long we’re stuck in this impossible prison together. Understand?”

He nodded respectfully and backed off, a speck of hope flashing in his eyes.

“I’m serious, Morray. I had a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again. And I have to figure out how to fix this sweater, so please give me some space.”

Ava walked off into the whiteness. Once she was far enough away, she removed the sweater and knitted the loose strands of yarn back together.

“What were you thinking?” she asked herself, burning with shame.

In the background, Morray’s humming started up again. He was just a tiny dot in the distance, but sounded right by her side. She hurried to close the hole in the sweater, knowing it wasn’t the only thing she’d have to seal up. She had opened a dangerous portal, allowing Morray to get too close. Regardless of how remorseful he acted, he had chosen the path of darkness long ago and nothing could change his essence.

6

T
he next day
after seeing her father, Grace wandered around the village lost in a storm of thoughts. She carried Christian with her, holding the small bundle close to her chest to keep him warm. As she trudged along, she began questioning her motives for leaving the city center. Maybe she was using him to avoid something bigger?

Around the village, the natives were busy with their daily chores. Some mended clothes, others milled grains, or sharpened weapons and tools. Grace smiled as she passed by. A few returned the gesture, but many looked away, not fully trusting the outsider. She heard her mother’s voice:
Trust must be earned …
She had tried to ignore the voice her whole life, but it always returned with a resounding truth.

Dark clouds passed overhead as winter made its relentless approach. She continued walking, hoping the fresh air would clear her muddled mind. The visit from her father left her feeling unsettled. She needed an answer. It had been a while since she had participated in a vision circle, but she was ready to see again. Ready to find her way out of the hole in which she’d fallen.

The natives held their rituals at the gathering place, located in the middle of the village. She handed Christian to one of the women and joined the group around the fire pit. The pipe came her way and she took a long drag, coughing it back out. The puff of smoke lingered around her head like a cloud. After a couple minutes, she relaxed, sitting cross-legged on the cold dirt ground, imbibing the rhythm of the drums. The fluidity of the beats soaked into her bloodstream and danced in her heart. Each beat thumped stronger and louder until her bones vibrated.
Boom. Booooom. Boooooom.
A wave of heat blistered through her body, catching her cells on fire.
Boom. Booooom. Boooooom.
Above the village, a shadow of storm clouds thickened in the sky. The drumming rolled like thunder, pushing her to the place she needed to see––the truth.

The woman holding Christian strolled away from the fire pit and Grace ran after her. “Don’t take him. Please don’t take him.”

“He is fine. You stay here till you get right.”

One of the men held Grace’s arm. “Stay,” he instructed.

“I want Christian.” She tried to pull away.

“No more fighting. It’s time to listen.”

“Listen to what?”

“Listen to what the drums are telling you.” He squeezed her hands.

She sat back down and waited as the drums beat on.

“Let it out,” he whispered, placing his hand over her heart.

The sadness was too powerful to contain anymore. She closed her eyes and let the drumming take over her thoughts and emotions. Her spirit began riding the rhythmic patterns into another dimension. Deeper and deeper each beat took her, until she found herself at the bottom of the darkness. She stood alone, not wanting to be there. A howl came up from her depths and she opened her mouth, releasing everything into the atmosphere. Her cries parted the clouds hanging overhead. Streaks of gleaming light sprinkled from the sky. Out of the light, her mother’s face appeared and her voice whispered:
There’s nothing, absolutely nothing that can separate you from my love.
Her mother’s presence whirled all around, embracing her. The heavy weight Grace had been lugging lifted, and peace settled through every hair on her head.

The drumming ceased.

Grace opened her eyes and looked at the natives sitting around the fire; their wide smiles connected in one harmonious line.

“I heard,” she told the man.

“We all did.”

The vision had provided her the truth she had been avoiding for a long time. She thought she had failed her mother and lost her forever. But Ava had always been with her––in her heart––through the darkness and the light.

*

Later that night, Grace fell asleep to the faint sound of drums echoing in her head. In her dream, she stood by the lake––the one next to her cottage inside the Seattle City Center. She heard a baby’s soft cries in the distance. On the water, a small boat drifted farther and farther away. The crying grew more insistent. She had to get to that boat. Running toward the water, something gripped her ankles and held her back. Stuck and helpless, she tried to scream, but no noise came out.

A gust of wind drifted across her sweat-damp body, waking her from the dream. Grace sat upright, wrapping her arms around herself. In the dark, she spotted a figure. Cari stood by the open door, letting in the cold, wet air.

“It’s raining. What are you doing?” Grace asked.

“Somethin’s wrong.” Cari turned around, holding Christian in her arms.

Grace bolted across the cabin and grabbed him. “Why are you holding him in the cold?”

“He’s hot. Too hot.”

Red blotches covered Christian’s sweaty face. He was burning up, yet shivering. “It’s a fever. Let’s go see Adyar. She’ll know what to do.”

They trudged across the muddy village to Adyar’s and banged on the cabin door. Rustling came from inside, and a pot or two clanged to the ground. The older woman opened the door, half asleep and scowling. She planted her hands on her wide hips. “What’s so urgent that you wake me from my dreams?”

“He’s sick.” Grace shoved passed Adyar and set Christian down on the wooden table used for chopping vegetables.

Adyar hurried over and placed her chubby hand on top of his head, closing her eyes. “Fever,” she said and grasped Grace’s shoulders. “You need to stay calm. Don’t stir up more energy.”

Grace closed her eyes, exhaling a heavy breath. “Can you do anything to help him?”

“Bring in cool air,” Adyar ordered.

Cari opened the door, letting in the freezing wind. Adyar removed the blanket from Christian and stretched out his arms and legs, airing out the folds of baby fat.

“Heat some water for a warm bath. Don’t let the water boil. Just warm. Pour the water into that bowl.” Adyar pointed to the large wooden bowls she used to serve mounds of mashed potatoes to the natives.

Grace filled one of the pots and set it over the fire.

“Get a smaller pot for tea,” Adyar instructed.

Once the water was warm, Grace filled the large bowl and helped Adyar put Christian into the water. He began to stir, but Grace soothed him with humming, while Adyar soaked a cloth and squished water over his head. She motioned for Grace to take over and began to chop up some angelica root to make the tea. The repetitive sound of the blade hitting the chopping block reminded her of the drums she had heard earlier in the day. She remembered her mother’s voice, it whispered from the innermost place in her heart:
There’s nothing, absolutely nothing that can separate you from my love.

Grace stroked Christian’s face with the wet cloth. “You’ll be okay, baby. I’m right here. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Christian reached for Grace’s long brown hair and tugged a few strands. He let out a whimper, crying out her name. “Gwwaacce.”

Adyar put the angelica root into the hot water and stirred, then set the pot by the door to cool down. An amber scent filled the room. The smell reminded Grace of the medical hall back in her village. Maybe if she had taken Christian to Ojai he wouldn’t have gotten sick? His system was accustomed to the controlled and mild weather inside the Seattle City Center. As soon as he was better, they’d have to travel south, where the weather was warm all year. It would mean leaving her mother behind in Seattle, but it was the right thing to do. Like her vision told her, it didn’t matter how far she went, her mother would always be with her.

After the tea was cold, Adyar poured some into a canvas canteen. She leaned over Christian and tilted his head back, bringing the spout to his lips. He gurgled a little and then woke up, screaming. Grace lifted him out of the water and swayed back and forth to calm him down. But he continued wailing, getting hotter by the second.

“Please, Christian. Please. We’re trying to help you. Just drink some tea. Just a little bit.” Grace pressed the spout up to his lips and squeezed the bag, getting some tea into his mouth.

He cried, tea spilling down his chin. Grace refused to let panic override her, and remained steady and strong. She walked closer to the door, letting the icy air cool him down. She shivered as the cold air soothed Christian. Once he was calm enough, she was able to get some of the tea down. His body relaxed a little and he smiled, grabbing for Grace’s hand. “Mama,” he whispered, then closed his eyes. The words imprinted on her heart.

Adyar sighed with relief. “He needs sleep. No food. Press a cold cloth to his head throughout the night. In the morning, I’ll bring over some ginger tea.”

“Thank you, Adyar.” Grace’s voice trembled.

“You must be strong for him. Sickness will feed on your fear, so fight back.”

At Cari’s, Grace moved her mat closer to the door and placed Christian on top of it. Freezing, she wrapped up in blankets and huddled next to him, praying for his fever to break by morning.

The rain stopped and the overcast sky grew lighter as the sun came up somewhere in the east, but Christian’s fever hadn’t broken. Adyar arrived with some ginger tea, but they couldn’t get him to drink. He screeched and kicked, getting hotter. The only solution was the one Grace dreaded the most.

“I have to take him back to the city center,” she said.

Nobody spoke as Grace gathered her belongings. Going back to the city center would be dangerous, but it was the only way to help Christian. The vision had shown her the truth––nothing could separate a mother’s love from her child. Not Faraday, not the council, and especially not fear. Not even the possibility of being placed in containment for her crimes. She vowed to accept her fate when the time came. For now, she needed to get Christian to the nursery for medical treatment.

Adyar helped put Christian into a sling around the front of Grace’s body, making sure he wasn’t too warm. Cari placed her forehead against Grace’s to say goodbye.

“I’ll miss you both,” Cari said softly.

“We’ll be back.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Grace didn’t want to argue. She left the village and headed into the woods.