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  “I’d like to see him,” Vaughn says, nothing forceful about his tone at all. “May I?” And I realize: Linden has the power here. Vaughn has always manipulated his son, but he’s never used force. He’s never showed his dangerous side to his son, and he won’t, because he’d risk losing him forever.

  “He’s a light sleeper,” Linden says.

  There are more words, Vaughn trying to tear through Linden’s newfound sternness, Linden refusing to comply, and finally Reed saying, “You’ve heard the kids. They aren’t leaving with you tonight. ”

  “Cecily, go check on Bowen,” Linden says. He isn’t asking. And in a few moments I hear the stairs creaking, her footsteps passing the closet as she heads into the bedroom, where she’ll undoubtedly press her ear to the floor to hear why she’s been dismissed.

  “You wouldn’t lie to me,” Vaughn says. Then I could swear there’s a touch of doubt in his voice when he says, “Linden?”

  “No, Father, I wouldn’t. I’ve always felt that you and I could trust each other. ”

  “Rhine is dangerous for you,” Vaughn says. “You know that I was only trying to protect you, don’t you? I saw how devastated you were by her absence. You understand why I didn’t tell you when she returned. ”

  “I understand,” Linden says.

  “Everything I have ever done has been to protect you. ”

  “I know. Like I said, she’s gone now. ” He lies so smoothly. I never would have thought him capable. “Let me talk to Cecily,” Linden says. “Come back tonight, and I’ll be sure she’s ready to come home. ”

  There’s more talking, but I can no longer make out the words because they have moved out of earshot. Vaughn’s voice sounds cooing, sympathetic. Despite every indication he gives that he is incapable of human decency, I’ve never doubted that he loves his son. His only living child is his greatest weakness; Linden is what he lives for, what drives him to madness and at the same time fills him with these rare bursts of humanity.

  But he would destroy everything in Linden’s life. He would dissect his wives. He would murder an imperfect child before he’d ever allow such a flaw to burden his son.

  The front door closes. There’s a long silence, and then footsteps come up the stairs and my closet door is opened. Linden and Reed are standing before me as I climb out of the darkness, and Cecily comes from the bedroom, eyes full of tears, collar of her shirt in her fist. “I’m sorry I yelled at you before,” she says to Linden. “Please don’t bring me back there. Please. ”

  Linden looks at her a long while, then at me. Reed puts a hand on his shoulder; he already knows what his nephew is thinking.

  “We have to leave before my father comes back,” Linden says. “Pack as quickly as you can. ”

  Chapter 13

  REED HAULS a box of dehydrated food into the backseat of the car.

  Cecily frowns, hugging Bowen to her chest. “Is the top of the car made of plastic?”

  “Vinyl. It’s a Jeep. Been around for more than a hundred years and still totally weather resistant,” Reed boasts, patting one of the windows. It shimmers as it ripples in the sunlight. “And the radio works. I’ve noticed that you’re a little musical aficionado. ”

  That gets a smirk out of her, albeit a reluctant one. “And you know how to care for an infant? You’ll have enough formula and everything?”

  “Formula?” Reed says, gently rapping his knuckle against Bowen’s cheek. “A boy his age is ready for rum. ”

  “Kidding,” Linden says quickly, lugging my suitcase out of the house. “He’s kidding, love. ” He kisses her cheek as he moves past. “My uncle took care of me when I was a baby. He knows what he’s doing. ”

  “And Elle will be here to help him,” I remind her. Right now Elle is upstairs cleaning, as she’s been doing all week; Linden emphasized that her only job is to care for Bowen, not Reed’s house, but she insisted that the level of dust was unhealthy for an infant.

  “I should make sure she has my checklist,” Cecily says, and hurries inside. I can see that she’s struggling to be strong about this. Bowen is as much a part of her as her own arm, and it was a difficult decision to leave him behind. But he wouldn’t be safe. Who knows what we’ll encounter.

  Linden follows Cecily into the house, and I lean against the side of the Jeep. Reed leans beside me and says, “This isn’t your fault, doll. ”

  I know he’s trying to comfort me, but I can’t help my bitter laugh. “Right. ”

  “Really,” Reed says. “It was bound to come to something like this eventually. My brother was going to take things too far one day. I always feared that he would screw something up and Linden would be killed by Vaughn’s efforts to make him healthy. But thanks to you, Linden is finally starting to gain some depth perception. ”

  “Would it have been so bad letting him carry on in ignorance?” I say. “If I’d never come along, he’d have gotten some happiness, at least. ”

  “Well, you’re here now,” Reed says. “You can sulk about it, or you can act. ”

  He’s right, of course. To die trying would be better than to die without purpose.

  It was my brother who pulled me out of bed once before, who forced me to go through the motions until it became a comfortable routine. But he’s not here to pull me together now; he’s hundreds of miles away, murdering innocent people in the name of some anarchist cause. He can’t hold me together this time. I have to do it myself.

  Linden hauls a carton of water that’s been bottled from Reed’s well into the backseat amid all the other supplies. “Can I help with anything?” I ask.

  He closes the door. “It’s all done. We’re ready to go. ”

  Reed shows us how to use the phones, which are the pride of his homemade contraptions. There are three of them, one of which he’ll keep. “They almost never work,” he tells us. “They work on signal towers, and you’ll only find those in cities. And here, of course, since I made one myself. ”

  “So that’s what that thing is that’s always humming,” Cecily says ponderingly. She’s got her arms crossed and the hood of her sweater pulled up despite the heat. I think a strong wind could come and blow the hair across her face, and when it receded, she’d be gone.

  “You can charge them with the cigarette lighter in the dashboard,” Reed says. “Call me if you run into any emergencies. I’ll come get you. ”

  Everyone says good-bye. Bowen is complacent when Cecily and Linden fuss over him, passing him between each other like a shared secret. He laughs, and Cecily frowns when she hands him to Elle, whom she bombards with a last-minute list of reminders. He likes being sung to. It’s important to encourage him to crawl so he doesn’t fall behind on his milestones.

  “We’ll be back soon,” Cecily promises her son. “You’ll hardly notice we’re gone. ”

  I feel a pang of guilt as I climb into the backseat. I don’t want to be the reason anyone is separated from family.

  I’m wedged between the plastic window and a pile of boxes and suitcases. Cecily takes the seat in front of me, and Linden gets behind the wheel.

  Cecily asks, “So how fast can this thing go?”

  “Fifty, maybe,” Linden says.

  She crawls over the armrest and peeks at the gauge. “The number goes up to one-forty,” she says, pointing.

  “It’s an old car, love,” he says. “Just because it says one-forty doesn’t mean we should go that fast. ”

  “Oh, Linden,” she says, falling into her seat with a flourish. “Live a little. ”

  When night falls, we don’t stop. Linden puts the high beams on and keeps driving. The radio softly plays music that’s cut by waves of static.

  We took a brief stop at a diner to use the restrooms, and Cecily and I switched seats. Now she’s asleep, snuggled against the luggage in the backseat. Linden casts worried glances at her in the rearview mirror. Despite her vigor, he worries. I th
ink he’s afraid she’ll stop breathing again.

  I think of my brother, out there somewhere. I think of time passing, and our lives slipping away. I think of my mother’s handwriting, and Reed’s gun in Cecily’s fearless hands.

  “Can’t sleep?” Linden says.

  It’s only nine o’clock, according to the faded green numbers on the dashboard, but it feels much later. It feels as though we’ve been driving for an eternity, rather than four hours. It feels like there’s no destination in sight, and maybe there isn’t. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking that Linden and Cecily would be safest if they could make it to Claire’s. I’ve been wondering if Gabriel is still there, if he thinks I’m dead. And the wondering turns to worry turns to pain, and I have to shut down entirely and stare at the scenery blurring by. But now it’s too dark to do that.

  “No,” I say. “Too anxious, I guess. I can drive if you’d like. ”

  “I’m not tired yet,” he says. “It’s only a few more hours to Charleston. I’d like to make it there before we stop. ”

  I notice his speed has increased. We’re barreling down a tunnel of nothingness. Dead things all around. Broken buildings, civilizations that are hiding in their barricaded houses, if there’s any civilization at all.

  There’s this sudden overwhelming need to hold on to something. This feeling that I’m falling forever and forever into nothingness, and I want to grab Linden’s hand. I want to feel the pull of the steering wheel in his certain grasp. I want to feel like I have any control at all over where I’m going and what will happen next.

  It takes all I’ve got to resist reaching for him.

  He clears his throat. “I had a brother too,” he says. “You knew that, right? My father told you?”

  “He died before you were born,” I say.

  “Right. I never even knew his name,” Linden says. “If I ask about him, my father shuts down, even gets angry. I don’t know if he looked like me. I don’t know if he was kind, or—or angry, or anything at all. But I think of him every day. He’s not at the front of my thoughts, exactly, but he’s like this weight I carry. This echo I hear sometimes when I speak. ”

  I fold my legs, turning in my seat so that I face him. “I’m sorry that you never got to meet him,” I say.

  “It’s a fact,” Linden says, “that if my brother hadn’t died, I would never have been born. My father wanted to have me so that he could have something to save. ”