“Yes. But they are both deflecting my questions. It’s not even the bickering though; it’s the emotions I’m picking up from them both. They are really upset, Zane, like epic-level upset. Something major is wrong. I just know it.” She chews on her lower lip.

  “Try not to worry. Everything will be okay.” But I shelter my eyes as I tell her this because I can’t blatantly lie to her face.

  I’ve spent the last hour tossing and turning in my bed, completely restless. Now that the move to Novo is close, and I’ve still had no confirmation from Malcolm, I’m strung pretty tight. There are too many unanswered questions, and the future is still an unknown entity. And I can’t help worrying about Gil and Jude. I’m sure Malcolm is right, and that Gil’s father will sort stuff out, but Jude doesn’t have a well-connected millionare businessman for a father so I’m genuinely concerned over what will become of him. It feels so wrong that I have the knowledge that could help him, but I can’t do anything about it. I feel like a lousy friend.

  My frustration is compounded by Ari’s close proximity. All that separates us right at this minute is a flimsy wall, and I’m utterly distracted by that thought.

  My heart falters in my chest when I hear the timid knock. Sitting up in bed, I swing my legs over the side and pad toward the connecting door just as it opens inward. She is wearing pink and purple patterned sleep shorts and a matching purple long-sleeved shirt that leaves little to the imagination. She’s rocking a sexy bed-head look, and her skin is flushed pink. Certain parts of my body are preparing to throw a party; my reaction is pure textbook. “Are you all right?”

  She nods, biting down on her lower lip. “I don’t want to sleep on my own,” she whispers. “Can I stay here with you?” Her cheeks flush a deep shade of red. “Just to sleep,” she adds quickly.

  Hell, I’m not sure I have the necessary self-discipline for that, but she looks so vulnerable, and I’ve always had a difficult time saying no to her. “Come on,” I rasp, taking her hand and pulling her toward the bed. She jumps in and flops down on the mattress facing the wall. I ease myself in under the comforter and tug it up under my chin. Lying sideways, I move slowly and carefully, pulling her in toward me so that her back is to my front. I wrap my arms around her waist and nuzzle my chin into her neck. “Relax, Ari. Close your eyes and go to sleep.” Gradually, I feel her body soften against mine and hear her breathing getting shallower and deeper. When I feel her chest rising and falling against my body, I know she’s asleep. I drift off quickly after that.

  An ear-shattering scream wakens me instantly. Ari is thrashing about on the bed, her fingers clawing at my arm. She is screaming and shrieking, clearly terrorized. I sit upright and gently shake her. “Ari, it’s okay. I’m here, wake up.” Her eyelids flutter open, and her eyes instantly well up. Loud sobs rise up her throat and pierce the still night air. Clutching her to me, I hold her in my arms until her crying has subsided.

  I thought things were getting better. But the therapy has clearly only scratched the surface. “I’m sorry,” she sniffles.

  “Ssh. You don’t need to apologize.” My fingers brush strands of damp hair back out of her eyes. “Is it like this every night?”

  She nods numbly. “I thought I wouldn’t have the nightmare if I was sleeping beside you,” she admits. My heart plummets to my toes.

  “It’s still early,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at the clock. “Will you be able to fall back asleep?” Sniffling, she nods, her eyelids already heavy and drooping. We settle back into the same position as earlier, and this time, I whisper soothing words in her ear until she has drifted off.

  I don’t sleep another wink the rest of the night. I can’t empty my brain of the images that refuse to be quieted. I should have been there that day; then none of this would have been set in motion. If I hadn’t left her alone that day, we wouldn’t be stuck in this hell—trapped with the knowledge of what we’ve done and forever trying to deal with the guilt.

  Ari wakens just as the first glimmers of daylight are shining through the slats in the blinds. She snuggles into me, and we stay huddled together for a couple hours until it’s time to get up. We don’t speak; we don’t even kiss, but this simple act of intimacy is all the comfort we need.

  Neither of us is in a hurry to head back home, so we grab a quick swim before indulging in a long, lazy, late breakfast. After we’ve checked out, it’s time to hit the road.

  The journey back to Connecticut is tense. Ari doesn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to push it. My heart and my mind feel heavy and cumbersome, and I’m anxious as I comprehend all that is lying in wait for us in the next couple of weeks.

  I’m grabbing Ari’s bag from the trunk when Malcolm appears alongside me. Looking up, I spot rumbling gray clouds lining the late afternoon sky. They pretty much match my mood right now, and I can’t help feeling they are a gloomy warning of what’s to come.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  I simply nod and follow his retreating back into the house.

  CHAPTER 7

  I think my body and mind have gone into lockdown. I’m frozen to the spot, my mind whirling, my mouth wide-open. There aren’t even words to adequately describe what I’m feeling right now. “I’m so sorry, Zane. There isn’t anything else I can do now, but I will fix this in time,” Malcolm says. The pained look on his face shows how genuinely unhappy he is

  I haven’t been granted approval to travel to Planet Novo.

  They don’t want me on account of my heart condition.

  I’m too weak for the new world.

  Malcolm has explained how he’s been appealing it at the very highest level, but they won’t back down. Rules are rules. I don’t tick one of the boxes. End of story.

  I’m going to be separated from Ari. That’s all I can think about now—no worry for my own safety or concern about my family. It’s that I’m on the verge of losing her; she’s being ripped right out of my arms, and I just can’t deal with that. “Your mother and Elijah have been approved for travel,” he adds, “though I’m unsure if she will travel without you.” Malcolm’s hand closes over his mouth and tense lines furrow his brow. “You need to go home and talk to her. They’ve brought the plans forward. We are leaving tomorrow.”

  That roused me from my stupor. “What?” I stare at him horror-struck. “Ari is leaving tomorrow? I’ve only got one day left with her!” I yell.

  He plants a firm hand on my shoulder. “I understand how difficult this is, son. I really do. I’ve arranged a place for you in the miltary base underground shelter. You’ll be safe there. You’ll survive. And you just need to keep yourself alive until I can come back for you. Because I will come back for you. Consider that a promise.”

  But his words fall on deaf ears. Because all I hear, all I can see, is a future where Ari and I are living on different worlds. I can’t see beyond that, and it devastates me.

  “Zane, is everything okay?” Ari asks, coming into the room. She stops mid-step when she sees me, confusion clear in her gaze.

  “Zane is okay, Ari. But he needs to go home and talk to his mother. Your mom and I need to talk to you. Can you find Lily and Deacon and meet me in the den?”

  Ari takes a step toward me. “Zane? What’s going on?” Troubled eyes meet mine.

  “I can’t leave her,” I mumble, glancing at Malcolm. “I won’t leave her.”

  Ari places her hand on my arm. “You’re leaving? Zane? What the frigging hell is going on?”

  “Go home, Zane,” Malcolm says gently, extracting Ari’s hand. “Come back here after, and stay as long as you like then. But you need to speak to your mother first, and I need to speak to my family.”

  I walk out of Ari’s house in a zombie-like state, her voice a distant sound in the background. I’m not even aware of the drive home. It’s a miracle that I get there alive. Mom is waiting on the porch for me, and she seems to have aged twenty years overnight. Her arms wrap around me and she hugs me fiercely. I’m too numb to speak, let alone cry. “We need to talk before your brother gets home. He’s gone over to Aaron’s to play for a while. Come on,” she says, stepping out of my embrace and tugging on my arm.

  I’m gobsmacked. Not over everything that I’ve heard today: That’s a given. Mom has just handed me a hot whiskey for the shock, apparently. The world really has gone to hell. “We’re not going without you,” she says, pulling out a chair to sit beside me. That barely registers on my radar. I’m still picturing Ari’s face in my mind and trying to comprehend a life without her in it. “Zane, sweetheart,” Mom says, her hands cupping my face, “Did you hear me?”

  “What?” I ask, turning to look at her.

  “Take small sips,” she says, fitting my hands around the warm glass. “Screw that. Knock it back,” she says, lifting her own glass to her lips and downing it in one. Yep, the world really has gone to shit. I tentatively raise the glass to my mouth and swallow. The warm liquid burns the back of my throat, but it’s strangely soothing. I swallow another mouthful, and then I drain the glass. Mom knows best after all.

  “I won’t break up our family,” Mom tries again. “We are not leaving without you, so we will all stay here and take our chances.”

  Finally, I find my voice. “No,” I croak. “No, Mom. It’s too dangerous. You both need to go to Novo. Malcolm said he’ll find a way to get me there as soon as he can.” The words pain me as they leave my mouth. I cannot contemplate staying here all alone. But I refuse to be responsible for anything happening to Mom and Eli on my account.

  “I won’t leave one of my sons behind!” Mom shrills, her fingers clasping my chin. “Do you hear me! If we can’t all go, we all stay. I’m not going to argue with you on this.”

  “But Mom …”

  “No, Zane,” she cuts across me. Her fingers grip my chin painfully. “No child of mine is being left on his own. Our fate will be the same as yours. Understood?”

  I nod, and then lean into her embrace. Her arms fold around my waist, and she smooths a hand over my hair. “I love you,” she says, pulling back a couple of minutes later. “I could never willingly leave you here by yourself.” Tears glisten in her eyes. And I can relate to that. There is nothing anyone could say to me that would make me voluntarily leave her or Eli or willingly part me from Ari. A sharp pain tightens around my heart, and I swallow the golf-ball-sized lump in my throat. My eyes moisten, and I’m struggling to hold it together. Mom looks at me in understanding. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know how much you care for her.” She weaves her hands through my hair.

  “I love her. I don’t want to be without her,” I choke out. A solitary tear sneaks out of my eye, but I brush it quickly away.

  “I know, honey. I hate that this is happening to you.” I appreciate that she doesn’t try to placate me with false platitudes or the typical type of bullshit people tell each other in tragic circumstances. Because telling me that everything will be all right; or trying to assure me it’ll all work out in the end; or simply stating that if it’s meant to be then we’ll be together, would do nothing but infuriate me.

  “Malcolm has arranged for us to shelter at the military base. If we’re safe anywhere, it’ll be there. We need to start packing. Only essentials.” She sighs, and then rises. “Come on, my boy, time to get moving.”

  My backpack is packed and resting at the bottom of the stairs. Malcolm phoned a half hour ago to confirm that a car will pick us up in the morning and bring us to the base. Mom and Eli are packing up the house into boxes and lugging them into the basement. It’s probably a useless exercise, but I think it’s a welcome distraction that Mom desperately needs. I feel selfish that I’m leaving them to it, but a street full of flesh-eating zombies couldn’t keep me away from Ari. The raw ache at the back of my throat and the heart-wrenching pounding in my chest haven’t dissipated at all. If anything, it’s accelerating in intensity the closer I get to tomorrow morning. I keep hoping that I’m going to wake up and discover I’ve been having the nightmare to end all nightmares. The rational part of my brain tells me to cop-the-hell-on.

  Mom kisses me on the cheek and waves me off.

  Ari sits dejectedly on the front porch as I pull up. She is hunched over, her shoulders slouched, and when she lifts her head at the sound of the engine, tears shine visibly on her cheeks. The pressure in my chest weighs down on me with life-crushing intensity, threatening to destroy me from the inside. I breathe deeply, praying to God for the first time in years. Please help me stay strong for her. That’s all I can do for her now. She reached out to my mind earlier, and she’s in agony. I won’t add to that. I need to remain positive in front of her, even though it feels like someone has a hand around my heart, squeezing it to nothing.

  I half-expect her to be mad at me for concealing something this huge, but judging by the look on her face, that’s the last thing on her mind. I think the reality of our situation has forced that into the background. I, for one, don’t want to spend our last hours together arguing.

  She sprints toward me as I exit the Jeep. Flinging herself into my arms, she sobs loudly and the sound kills me, slices me to the core. I hold her to me, crushing her against my body, and I’m waylaid by her sweet smell, the feel of her soft fingers digging into my back, and the choking sounds emanating from her throat. I smooth my hand over her hair and close my eyes, soaking up the sound, smell, and feel of her. Tears prick the back of my eyes, and I’m really close to losing the tenuous hold on my emotions.

  “I’m not going without you,” she cries, her arms tightening around my back. “We can’t be separated.” Stepping back, she looks up at me through damp eyelashes. Then she’s kissing me, her lips trembling against mine. And my mouth works frantically against hers, my lips tasting hers over and over again. A low guttural sound escapes the back of my throat, a mix of longing and anguish, and my emotions swing radically from potent desire to heart-stopping sorrow.

  “Ariana,” her mom says gently. My eyes flit open instantly. Anneka is standing beside us, concern clearly evident on her face. “Come inside, honey.” Ari ducks alongside me, her arms circling my waist. My arm drapes over her shoulder as I reach across her with my other arm, welding us together. We shuffle up the path as if we’re superglued to each other.

  An eerie silence has descended over the house. Every few minutes, I hear a grunt and the scraping sound of a box dragging along the floor. Other than that, there’s nothing. It’s like the silence is the actual articulation of the emptiness we all feel.

  We are lying side by side on Ari’s bed, a quilt draped over us; though, it does nothing to heat my bones or remove the chill that has invaded every cell in my body. Ari shivers at my side, and I know she’s feeling it too. Her tears are all dried out, replaced by an inevitable numbness that has gripped us both. My lips nuzzle her hair and I tighten my arms around her. She wiggles in my embrace and my grip loosens. Scooting backward, she leans her head against the headboard, her knees pulled in tight to her chest. “I’m staying with you.” She plants her chin on her knees and pins me with a look. Her words are clear and confident. “They can’t make me go.” I twist over onto my stomach and prop up on my elbows. Ari looks fiercely resolute. It’s the same look she has on her face at the start of every race: Dogged determination. My heart and head enter into full-on combat mode.

  The sensible part of my brain wins out. “Baby, you’ve got to go. It’s not safe to stay here. And you can’t be parted from your family.” As much as I’m trying to convince her, I’m also trying to do a number on myself.

  “I love my family,” she says, placing her fingertips to her temples. “But you’re my future. So if it’s a choice, I choose you.”

  I stare at her open-mouthed. My heart swells to breaking point. But I can’t let emotion win out. Besides, even if Ari wanted to stay—and I was selfish enough to agree—hell would freeze over before Malcolm would leave her behind. I rise up and shunt over in front of her, placing my hands on her knees. “Ari, I want you to leave. I need to know that you’re safe. That’s the only way I’ll cope.”

  A forlorn tear escapes her eye. She swipes it away with the back of her hand. “No, Zane. We can’t be parted. I can’t bear the thought of not being with you!” The tears roll freely down her face now.

  I cup her face. “You know I love you more than anything else in this world. Do you trust that? Trust me?”

  “Of course, I do.” Her voice shakes, and it’s so difficult to remain composed when all I want to do is cave into my grief, to blub like a baby.

  “So, if I promise you that I’m going to find a way back to you, that we will be together, you’d trust that?” She nods reluctantly. “That is my promise to you. Always and forever.” I lean forward and kiss her deeply. She pulls back and opens her mouth to speak, but I shut her down, latching my lips onto hers again. Then the time for talking is over. We kiss for hours, pausing at intervals to cling to one another, before indulging in a kissing frenzy again. And it’s the only solace I can find. The only time I’m successful at emptying my brain is when I’m relishing the feel and touch of her.

  A slow-burning fire rages inside me fueled by the heady combination of hormones mixed with a potent blend of emotions. Ari draws back and lifts her shirt over her head. My eyes drift downward taking in the delicate lace of her white bra and the oodles of glistening skin on display. Certain parts of my body blatantly rejoice, and I shift uncomfortably. “Ari, what are you doing?” I lift my chin to her face.

  A deep crimson color stains her cheeks. “I want you,” she whispers. “We don’t know when we’ll be together again, and I want to experience this with you.” She exhales deeply, and I have to force my eyes to stay focused on her face. My body and mind are locked in another internal conflict. The desire to wrap myself around her, damn the consequences, is riding me hard. But I don’t want to be forced into doing something I know she isn’t ready for yet, or for it to be overshadowed by what’s on the way. I can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it. Last man, last woman on Earth type of cliché.

 

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