Home.
Home.
What does he mean?
I part my lips to ask the question and his sneaky smile is the only answer I receive. Iâm embarrassed and excited and anxious and eager. My stomach is filled with beating drums pounded into synchronicity by my heart. Iâm practically humming with electric nerves.
Every step is a step away from the asylum, away from Warner, away from the futility of the existence Iâve always known. Every step is one I take because I want to. For the first time in my life, I walk forward because I want to, because I feel hope and love and the exhilaration of beauty, because I want to know what itâs like to live. I could jump up to catch a breeze and live in its windblown ways forever.
I feel like Iâve been fitted for wings.
Adam leads me into an abandoned shed on the outskirts of this wild field, overgrown by rogue vegetation and crazed bushlike tentacles, scratchy and hideous, likely poisonous to ingest. I wonder if this is where Adam meant for us to stay. I step into the dark space and squint. An outline comes into focus.
Thereâs a car inside.
I blink.
Not just a car. A tank.
Adam almost canât control his own eagerness. He looks at my face for a reaction and seems pleased with my astonishment. His words tumble out. âI convinced Warner Iâd managed to break one of the tanks I brought up here. These things are designed to run on electricityâso I told him the main unit fried on contact with the chemical traces. That it was corrupted by something in the atmosphere. He arranged for a car to deliver and collect me after that, and said we should leave the tank where it is.â He almost smiles. âWarner was sending me up here against his fatherâs wishes, and didnât want anyone to find out heâd broken a 500-thousand-dollar tank. The official report says it was hijacked by rebels.â
âCouldnât someone else have come up and seen the tank sitting here?â
Adam opens the passenger door. âThe civilians stay far, far away from this place, and no other soldier has been up here. No one else wanted to risk the radiation.â He cocks his head. âItâs one of the reasons why Warner trusted me with you. He liked that I was willing to die for my duty.â
âHe never thought youâd step out of line,â I murmur, comprehending.
Adam shakes his head. âNope. And after what happened with the tracking serum, he had no reason to doubt that crazy things were possible up here. I deactivated the tankâs electrical unit myself, just in case he wanted to check.â He nods back to the monstrous vehicle. âI had a feeling it would come in handy one day. Itâs always good to be prepared.â
Prepared. He was always prepared. To run. To escape.
I wonder why.
âCome here,â he says, his voice noticeably gentler. He reaches for me in the dim light and I pretend itâs a happy coincidence that his hands brush my bare thighs. I pretend it doesnât feel incredible to have him struggle with the rips in my dress as he helps me into the tank. I pretend I canât see the way heâs looking at me as the last of the sun falls below the horizon.
âI need to take care of your legs,â he says, a whisper against my skin, electric in my blood. For a moment I donât even understand what he means. I donât even care. My thoughts are so impractical I surprise myself. Iâve never had the freedom to touch anyone before. Certainly no one has ever wanted my hands on them. Adam is an entirely new experience.
Touching him is all I want to think about.
âThe cuts arenât too bad,â he continues, the tips of his fingers running across my calves. I suck in my breath. âBut weâll have to clean them up, just in case. Sometimes itâs safer being cut by a butcher knife than being scratched by a random scrap of metal. You donât want it to get infected.â
He looks up. His hand is now on my knee.
Iâm nodding and I donât know why. I wonder if Iâm trembling on the outside as much as I am on the inside. I hope itâs too dark for him to see just how flushed my face is, just how embarrassing it is that he canât touch my knee without making me crazy. I need to say something. âWe should probably get going, right?â
âYeah.â He takes a deep breath and seems to return to himself. âYeah. We have to go.â He peers through the evening light. âWe have some time before they realize Iâm still alive. And we have to use it to our advantage.â
âBut once we leave this placeâwonât the tracker start back up again? Wonât they know youâre not dead?â
âNo.â He jumps into the driverâs side and fumbles for the ignition. Thereâs no key, just a button. I wonder if it recognizes Adamâs thumbprint as authorization. A small sputter and the machine roars to life. âWarner had to renew my tracker serum every time I got back. Once itâs gone? Itâs gone.â He grins. âSo now we can really get the hell out of here.â
âBut where are we going?â I finally ask.
He shifts into gear before he responds.
âMy house.â