“No, that wasn’t my boyfriend. That was Topher. He’s just a friend. His brother, Tucker, was the one I loved. But he died. He was killed by . . . one of you. A Nahx. A while ago.”
See Topher? he signs, tapping his eye and his shoulder. It’s nice the way he’s given him a sign name, just like that.
“We’re looking for him, yes.”
See Topher repeat.
“I hope so,” I say. “I hope I see him again. He’s a good friend.” I say this with conviction, though I’m not sure I know what friendship is anymore. Maybe I only call Topher a friend because he’s the same species as me.
August stares at me for a moment, then nods and, gripping my shoulder, nudges me forward once more.
Ahead of us in the tunnel I see a dark shape. I shine my flashlight forward and there, parked neatly, across two lanes in the middle of the road facing away from us, is a bright red old-style pickup truck, something I’m sure wasn’t here the last time I came this way. I tug away from August’s hand and run. With his clanking footsteps falling in behind me, I reach the back of the truck and jump up to look at the flatbed.
It is lined with fuel canisters. Full canisters, I discover on shaking one. Enough gasoline to drive hundreds of miles.
“Yes!” Yes!” I leap down and throw the driver’s door open. Miraculously, the light comes on. On the seat is a plain white envelope. I tug my mittens off and tear it open with trembling fingers, climbing into the driver’s seat. August appears in the open door, but I ignore him.
There is a map. A hand-drawn map on a white sheet of paper. Start at the camp, it says. I know the way to the camp from town. The map shows the way from there to the base. The secret base. No one who doesn’t know what camp we were at could ever use this map. It’s brilliant.
There is also a letter. From Topher.
Dear Raven,
I’ve been searching for you for three days, and Liam says we can’t wait anymore. I can’t believe you’re dead. I won’t believe that. I chased that Nahx for miles, but he was too fast and I lost him. Please forgive me for letting him take you. Please forgive me for not searching for you forever.
I’m out of my mind not knowing what happened to you, and I’m an idiot for hoping you’re still alive. But I hope you are and that you come back here and find this truck, this map, and this letter. Xander made the map. The route is mostly lower ground and back roads so it should be safer. We found the truck deep in a parking garage. Just touch the wires together and it will start. Since it’s so old, the ignition is simple. It should start. I pray it starts.
I hope we find each other again. I miss you, Raven, and I promise I will never forget you.
Please come back to me.
—Toph
I read it again, then again, to make sure that I didn’t imagine the more fanciful parts. The part where he says he’ll never forget me. The part where he says “come back to me.” August stands stoically, staring forward in the tunnel while I read the note one last time before folding it into my pocket with the pistol. Then I set my forehead down on the steering wheel and resist the urge to scream.
Come back to me? To ME? There is a sense of inevitability to it, that Topher would take his twin’s place as easily, in the end, as putting on his boots. I wonder if it will be that easy for me.
My heart is pounding in my chest so hard that my ribs ache. I tug at the scarf around my neck, loosening it, and take deep breaths.
After a few minutes I feel August’s hand on my shoulder.
Feel broken?
For once I don’t have tears in my eyes. I think I’m in too much shock to cry. “I’m fine,” I say, the millionth lie I’ve told him. “It’s just exciting. It means I can drive. At least part of the way. I’ll get there in a day or two, instead of weeks.”
August nods. His hand turns up to form a question, but I don’t know what about.
“I’m sorry I . . .”
He taps himself in the chest, with his other hand still making a question.
Me?
“What about you?”
August reaches past me and points to the passenger seat.
Me?
He wants to know if I still want him to come along. Like I would leave him here alone in the tunnel. Like I’m that kind of person.
Like that isn’t exactly what I should do.
“Of course, August. I mean, if you want to. It’s still pretty dangerous out there, right?”
He nods and looks ahead into the tunnel again. Then he gently closes the driver’s door and walks around the truck. I lean over and open the passenger door for him.
“Hop in.”
He hesitates at the door. I realize I have never seen him sitting down. He has kneeled and sat back on his heels, but I’ve never seen him sit, either on the floor or on a chair. Also, he’s very tall. I’m not sure he’ll fit. He leans his head in, and I hear him take a deep breath. I breathe in too and notice that the cab smells like cigarettes and beer. Not my favorite smell, but I’ll take it rather than leave it.
But August, who lived with the smell of me dying for a week, apparently prefers not to. He closes the door, steps back, and deftly hops into the bed of the truck, squatting among the gas canisters.
I roll my window down and lean out to look at him.
“Are you sure?” He nods and clicks off his flashlight as I start the engine, swiping the two wires against each other. It purrs beautifully, and the headlights glow in front of us, lighting up the wet tunnel, the way out, and the thoughts in my head that swirl like a blizzard.
I’m almost there. I’m going back to Topher, to other humans, to somewhere safe, somewhere August will leave me behind and we’ll never see each other again. I focus on the road, pressing my lips together so that last thought won’t tear me apart.
AUGUST
She drives until her head begins to nod down, when the dark of the next day is already approaching. Now that we are away from the city, I think it’s safe to travel by day. Safer even, because I could see the transports in the sky even if they were flying silent. So far we have been unmolested, but I can’t count on that continuing.