Beneath the Shadowlanders

Chapter Twenty-Six: Orion

The later it gets, the harder it hits me how much mom must be worrying right now. I pace back and forth across our tiny cell, fairly bursting with nervous energy, but when it starts to get dark, I sink onto the threadbare cot, resting my head in my hands. She's probably beside herself with worry.

And with good reason, I remind myself. I did manage to get us arrested, after all. Gin sits in the corner, head in her hands, knees tucked tightly against her chest, as if by squeezing herself into a tight enough ball, she might disappear entirely. She hasn't moved since they threw us in here. Her brother and my sister rest on the opposite side of a concrete wall from us. I worry about my sister, and it occurs to me how worried Genevieve must be about her brother – he's the only family she has left.

I clear my throat as I move over on the cot and pat the other side, gesturing for her to join me. I realize too late how that must look. She glances up, but doesn't move.

"I didn't mean it like that," I clarify, blushing. "I just thought you might be more comfortable sitting on the cot than on the floor."

"I'm fine, thanks," she responds.

"Come on, I don't bite," I joke. Too soon, I think.

She doesn't respond.

Wit sit in relative silence for a while. If I strain, I think I can almost hear Calista and Gabe in the next cell. Then again, it might be the wind.

After several minutes, she speaks, so quiet I almost wonder if I've imagined it. "He didn't even want to come down here." Gin looks longingly at the heavy steel door separating us from our freedom.

"I know," I whisper smpathetically.

"This is all my fault," she mutters, head sinking back into her hands.

"No, it's not," I respond. "If anything, it's mine. This was a stupid plan. I should have known it would backfire." I pull my knees onto the cot, hugging them against my chest in a position that mirrors my companion's. It's all my fault that all of us are stuck in here. My beautifully innocent sister, these two strangers who had a perfectly good life on the surface, none of them deserved this.

I feel the cot sink slightly next to me, and turn to see Gin perched on the other side. She places a hand on my shoulder. "None of us knew," she whispers.

The warmth from her hand spreads across my chest, and I realize how cold it is in here. I grab the thin blanket from underneath us, wrapping it around both of our shoulders. It's the closest we've ever been, and for the first time, I look at this girl – really look at her. She has beautiful copper hair that curls slightly and falls softly across her cheek. She keeps pushing it behind her ear, but it never stays. I notice her pale skin, lightly dusted with freckles. Her soft, red lips. I watch her eyes, deep and blue and never resting in one place for too long. There's a sorrow behind those eyes, even more than in my own mother's. I start to wonder what kind of tragedy must have brought such a young girl such incredible sorrow.

I clear my throat softly, then ask, "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to your mother?"

She looks away, and I know I've struck a nerve. I backtrack quickly. "It's alright, you don't have to tell me, I just –"

"No, it's fine," she interrupts. "It was a long time ago." She takes a deep breath. "She was killed by a shadow, about two months into the rebellion. It climbed into my brother's room and she gave her life trying to protect us."

"Wow," I say, unable to contain myself.

"Yeah." A tear sparkles in the corner of her eye, trapped by her lashes.

We sit in silence for a long moment. Suddenly, she speaks. "Do you know what happens in a shadow attack?"

"No." I don't. I've never seen one in person.

"There's no blood or anything," she explains almost reverently. "No mess, not even a trace. It bites you and you just start to disappear. Fade out of existence. Until there's nothing left." She's completely lost in a memory, now. "It just sinks its teeth into you and then holds on until there's nothing left to hold onto."

The trapped tear finally escapes the corner of her eye, rolling its way across her cheek. She reaches her hand up to swipe it away, but it's too late. It's been joined by several others. She doesn't sob or anything, just lets them fall, in total silence.

I place one hand over hers, swiping my thumb under her eye with the other. Part of me wants to tell her I understand, but the other part of me knows I couldn't possibly. There's a chance my father is still out there. She watched her mother die. I open my mouth to say something, but no sound comes out.

Instead, a single tear escapes my own eye, as memories of my father begin to surface one by one. Playing catch in our yard on the surface. Teaching me to throw a knife. Watching TV on a school night after mom went to bed. Even memories from after the migration. Dad throwing together dinner from whatever UHC has sent us that week. Dad in his scout conscript uniform. Mom and dad cuddling on the couch, looking happy as ever. Each new memory brings another tear with it, until I realize I'm no longer holding Genevieve – she's holding me. I try to compose myself, instead succeeding in giving myself the hiccups.

"You lost someone, too, didn't you." It's not a question.

"My dad," I respond. "He was conscripted into the scouts for stealing food. It was back before Underland Hydroponics had fully developed their Family Sustenance program. Back when it was pretty much every man for himself." I pause to sniffle and wipe my eyes. "His group was..." I almost can't say it. I choke on the word. "...attacked."

Gin just clenches my hand harder.

"On a routine surface mission. It wasn't supposed to be dangerous. There hadn't been shadow reports in that region for weeks. He... he disappeared. No one saw him run away, but no one saw him... die... either." I take a deep breath, letting it sink in. He's probably dead. Everyone knows it. I look up at Genevieve, the sorrow in her eyes almost killing me on the spot. "Do you... do you think... what happened to... to your mom..." I manage to choke out, before the tears overcome me again.

She patiently waits for me to compose myself before responding, "Honestly, it's more likely than not. Especially if no one saw him. When the shadows take you... there's nothing left to mourn."

I fight to contain my grief. I always knew that we would probably never see him again, but hearing it out loud, receiving confirmation, knowing that there isn't even anything left of him to grieve... it's more than I can take.

Genevieve looks at me with more pity than I think I can take. She runs a hand across my cheek, a failed attempt at drying a few of my tears. "I know it doesn't mean much, but if it helps at all, when my mother passed..." She pauses to take a deep breath. "The last look in her eyes, it was... peaceful. She was at peace. I don't think it hurt her. I think it soothed her. I think... I think she knew everything would be okay. And I don't know what happened to your dad, but if he was taken by the shadows... I imagine he was at peace, as well." She cups her hand under my chin, tilting it up to look her in the eye. "Whatever happened, I'm sure he loved you, and he wanted more than anything to come home to you. And I promise, it gets easier."

I nod. It's all I can really do. Every part of me is numb – body and mind. We sit in silence for a long time, after that. I don't even know when we finally drift off to sleep, heads on each other's shoulders, hands still tightly clasped.