Human beings took away our humanity.
If I’m going to lead us through this, if I’m going to dismantle ARC and take control, I have to be willing to put it all on the line. I have to be willing to die to save us. I have to trust Levi in the same way Ezra trusted me. Levi said it. I need to be all in. Seeing Levi inside the madness of the Blood Lust has shifted my perspective. Levi absolutely cannot see this as a battle, but I have to. This is a fight like any other. I’m ready to die back home at Camp Bonneville every time I engage. I’m not willing, no, never that, but I’m always prepared for the worst. What’s one more risk on top of everything else? My life is always on the line one way or another.
If I were the type of person who cries easily, I would be teary eyed. I’m not, though, and thank God; otherwise, after what I’ve seen and done in my few short years, I would be hysterical all day long. When I look at Levi lying here helpless, with tiny grains of sand peppering his long, dark eyelashes, the injustice of the Blood Lust and who and why we are suddenly feels explosive. Sadness turns to anger. I’m mad now and more determined than ever to fix him.
It doesn’t take long for Levi to wake up. His eyes flutter open, but he stays on his back in the sand. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.
“No. It’s me who should be sorry. I should never have fought back. I was afraid. It won’t happen again.”
Levi sits up on his elbows. “What are you talking about? You had to fight back. I would have killed you. Look at your eye. I did that to you.”
I get up and wipe the sand off my palms. “Oh, please,” I say, deliberately playing it down. He doesn’t need the guilt. It won’t be useful moving forward. In fact, it’s probably the opposite. “I’ve had worse training with Violet. This is nothing. You’re not some asshole who likes to beat up girls. You’re not some psycho who takes pleasure in hurting women. We aren’t normal people. They did this to us. We’re sick and this is our therapy.” I walk over to his pack and take out another red pill from a container in his Dopp kit.
“You can’t be serious right now,” he says with disdain.
“We’re going to do this. We’re gonna fix you because you deserve to be fixed, even though in general, I think you’re kind of a douche.” I smile. He does not smile back. So much for trying to lighten the mood. “I’m serious, though. It’s too dangerous for you to be at such a disadvantage with this. And while we don’t have time, we also don’t have time not to do it. You were right. You were right from the start and I should have just agreed with you straightaway. Take another pill.”
I reach out my hand and offer it to him and he just looks at me. “You don’t get it. I will kill you. Put the pill away. I came here to make sure that you got back safe. I’m not going to be the reason you don’t.”
“But those two things can’t coexist. You can’t say you’ve got my back when I have to worry that you might stab me there. And I need your help if we’re going to find Ezra and get back home. So shut up and listen: You’re not going to kill me and I am never going to fight back. Ever. I will keep my uniform and armor on and curl up into a defensive position if I have to, but I will never hurt you again.”
Levi leaps up. It’s his turn to be mad. This is the Levi I recognize. “No. End of discussion.”
“Screw that! This isn’t a decision you just get to make. This is my life, too. Take it!” I say in a voice one decibel away from a shout, but anger isn’t the way. I have to learn, right now, not to be combative with Levi, which feels impossible but I have to try. I relax my posture. I lower my voice and cock my head to one side. Anger won’t work, but something else … “You are a lot of things, Levi, but I never took you for a coward.”
“I’m not a pussy, Ryn, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”
“You know, I don’t really like that word in this context. It makes me feel all feminist-y, which we could talk about. At length. Orrrrr you could just take the pill.”
Maddeningly, he ignores my attempt to lighten the mood. He just shakes his head, like a child refusing to take a bite of food. “I thought the pills would make it easier. Now that I see they don’t, we have to stop.”
I put my hand out again. Stay calm, stay calm. “Oh my God, you are a child! Did you really think this was going to be done in fifteen minutes? The pills work. You just have to let them. Right now your brain is making it impossible. You may trust me, but you don’t trust yourself. You have to let go of your guilt. You didn’t choose to be this way. This isn’t the real you. Come on. Let’s do this. Let’s trust each other.”
Levi glares at me.
I smile. “Come on.”
He rolls his eyes but actually laughs as he swipes the pill from my palm and pops it in his mouth. He takes a swig of water from his canteen.
“You’re crazy.”
“Yeah,” I answer sarcastically. “The awesome kind of crazy that they make movies about.”
“And modest. Clearly,” he says with a straight face. I raise an eyebrow and shrug.
Levi walks to pick up his tablet and then comes and sits down beside me. We wait in silence for the drug to kick in, the white sand surrounding us like outstretched arms. I’ve never been on a tropical vacation. Once a year I go with my family to Europe to visit my grandparents in Sweden. From there we’ve traveled to England and France. We went to Disneyland a couple of times, but nowhere like this. I’ve never been anywhere this remote, with actual palm trees and burnt-orange sunsets. This must be like Fiji on our Earth, or maybe Tahiti. Though, for all I know we could be in Battle Ground. This might be the only land mass for miles. I haven’t even seen a bird and that’s never a good sign.
When enough time has passed I look at Levi. “Ready?” I ask.
“As I’m ever going to be.” He reaches toward his tablet and I take it gently from his hands.
“I’m going to sing it. Just like your mom did to you. I’m not, like, a terrible singer, but I’m not exactly very good, either,” I warn.
“That’s probably better. I think it would actually irritate me if on top of everything you were a great singer, too.” He smiles. That is a major compliment coming from him, and I can’t help but flush a little bit at the implications of “on top of everything.” Clearing my throat as much to do something as to warm up, I bring up the lyrics.
I begin to sing.
It’s so interesting that his mom chose this song. I get that it’s a love song, but it’s also just about two people who sometimes feel like they have only each other. I know Levi’s dad left his mom when he was pretty young. I know because his younger sister, Flora, told me before I became a Citadel. I don’t think his dad is really in the picture. I think about the burden that must place on Levi, to take care of his mom and Flora and whatever comes flying out of the Rift at the same time. It’s so much for someone so young. I don’t think he’s close to his team like I am. God. He must be so lonely.
When I finish the song, I immediately start over. To my surprise, Levi starts singing along with me. I don’t need to say anything. He’s deep in this memory, I can just tell. Very slowly, I lean closer to him. I put my head on his shoulder.
This is for Ezra. This is for Ezra. This is for Ezra …
After a few seconds he slides his hand down my arm and takes my hand. I never dared try to initiate contact with Ezra when we did this, but Levi is not Ezra, and neither am I. We’re Citadels. We take risks normal people wouldn’t. I close my eyes. I know Levi could turn any moment, but I don’t think he will, not now. He’s getting it. He feels safe and so do I. When we finish the song, Levi doesn’t let go of my hand and I don’t