Undertow

“You don’t know, Mom. You have never known. You don’t even know why they sent you here in the first place.”

 

 

“I can’t explain this to you, Lyric,” she cries. “I understand it’s too dangerous for the two of you, but—”

 

“I’m glad you see that!” I yell. “One of my best friends is in the morgue, and the other one is missing, so yeah, thanks for noticing it’s dangerous. So that’s it? We’re staying?”

 

“No, you and your father will go,” she says.

 

“He won’t go without you, and you know it!” I say.

 

“Let’s quiet it down,” my father says, pointing to the door that leads to the hall.

 

I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t calm me. “So let’s imagine what’s going to happen when your family shows up—that is, if they show up. They are going to shun you like all the others. You are an untouchable! They will spit in your face right before they try to kill you. I’ve seen how your honorable people treat their children, Mom. Fathom’s father cheers for him to die in their stupid arena, and he isn’t a traitor. They teach the babies to fight as soon as they can stand. There’s no love. No compassion. It would get in the way of their honor. They will turn their backs on you.”

 

“Summer, she’s got a point. How do you know they will want to see you?”

 

“I’ll come as soon as I can,” she says. She’s unbendable. I now know why my father looks so beaten. She may have exhausted him, but I’m still boiling mad.

 

“If we leave you behind, we will never see you again. The government will catch you, or the same gang that just beat Shadow to death will.”

 

“How long would you want me to look for you if you were missing?” she says.

 

“Don’t turn this around on me. You’ve been huddling over that laptop knowing full well you weren’t going anywhere. Well, we’re staying with you, Mom. And if the Niners kill us, too, it will be your fault.”

 

My mother stands and slaps me. The sound is harsher than the sting, but it’s the way she’s looking at me that really hurts.

 

“You two are always saying I need to grow up,” I say. “I think I’ve done more growing up than a person should have to do. Now it’s your turn.”

 

 

 

 

 

If they weren’t holding a memorial for Shadow, I would never go back to school again. The thought of having to deal with his death in front of everyone is unbearable. Doyle promises to keep it short and respectful: a gathering in the auditorium, a video presentation of some of Shadow’s vlogs, and a moment of silence. He asks me if I want to speak, but I can’t think of a single thing to say that isn’t depressing or hateful. He asks about Bex, but I still haven’t seen her.

 

Doyle meets us inside. He’s wearing a dark suit and sunglasses. He peers up at the camera on the wall. I look up at it too, but I don’t see what was so interesting.

 

“I had to make sure it was off,” he says before reaching into his pocket. Then he hands me an envelope.

 

“Go,” he says. “Get the hell out of this town.”

 

I nod.

 

“Thank you,” my father says.

 

Doyle nods. Men are so weird. They can beat the crap out of one another, and then they’re fine.

 

I turn to my mother and hand it to her. “Well, here you go. A lot of hard work for nothing.”

 

My father frowns. “Lyric, this isn’t the time.”

 

I turn away from them. “You’re right. Let’s go say goodbye to my dead friend.”

 

Shadow’s mother sits at the front of the auditorium, sobbing. Mr. Ervin sits nearby, fighting back tears. I look around at my classmates. Most of them are stunned silent, horrified by what has happened.

 

I spot the Alpha near the front. They sit quietly among the crowd. Fathom is with them, as is Arcade. For some reason it surprises me that they came. They show so little interest in us as individuals. I wonder if the prince made the others attend. I’m grateful for it.

 

“He wanted me to tell you that he is sorry for your loss,” Terrance whispers when he finds a seat next to me.

 

“Tell him it means a lot,” I say.

 

“I hear you are leaving.”

 

I’m troubled that he knows my secret.

 

“Doyle and I share information,” he explains.

 

I shake my head. “My mother won’t go until she finds her family.”

 

“You have to convince her,” he says. “You need to go as soon as you can.”

 

“Why?”

 

Suddenly, Gabriel is standing over me. He bends down on one knee, his face a mess of tears. “I am so sorry.”

 

“I appreciate that, Gabriel,” I say stiffly. His angry words still reverberate in my ears.

 

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