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chapter twenty-two reconciliation
Alex recognizes the sea of dead grass before she emerges into the junkyard (how can she not? It's what she remembers most vividly—the dead grass cradling Lucas's limp body). She doesn't want to be back at the junkyard so soon. She sees it all over again—Lucas's limp body, El's inhuman scream, Mike and Lucas on the ground, pulled punches, the yelling and screaming, fresh blood, the accusations. It's here that only a few days ago, everything falls apart and Alex can't do anything but watch. Their motley crew slips through their fingers. But this might as well be the only place that will keep them alive. The bad men are a speck in the distance, but they are growing ever bigger with each passing second. Safety is an illusion. They are still on their own. They are back to square one. And they're running out of time and places to hide. Eventually, they'll be driven out of their hiding spots like cattle—they'll run out of food, search parties will be sent after them, and the bad men will not give up.
These thoughts don't stop Alex from letting her bike clatter to the ground and collapsing onto her knees as soon as she pulls to a stop in the junkyard. Her calves burn and her knuckles are stark white from gripping the handlebars of her bike tightly. She takes deep breaths (5...7...8...) in an attempt to calm her still racing heart. That moment just before the van sails over their heads replays in her head, the moment where she prepared herself for the end of it all. She's tired. They're all tired, but especially El. She sways on her feet as Mike climbs off the bike. Her eyes are half-closed and blood trails from her nostril. Alex fears that she would have crumbled to the ground like a marionette with cut strings right then and there if it hadn't been for Mike's steadying arm snaked around her waist. Alex watches as he helps her gently to the ground.
El shouldn't have to kill herself in order to save them.
"Holy...holy shit," Dustin gasps, dropping his bike to the ground. "Did...did you see what she did to that van?"
"No, Dustin, we missed it," Mike retorts, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"I mean, that was...that was—"
"Awesome," Lucas speaks up. He's still breathing heavily, but he manages to repeat, "It was awesome." He walks over to El, sinking to his knees so that he is eye-level with the girl. El eyes him with suspicion at first but relaxes when she realizes that Lucas has no ill-intent. Rather, his eyes are shining excitedly, and he wears a soft smile on his face. "Everything I said about you being a traitor and stuff...I was wrong. I'm sorry."
He reaches out a hand and places it on El's shoulder, filling the gap that lies between them. The girl tenses at first but leans into the touch. And for once, everything seems to be coming together at the seams. Piece by piece, they are rebuilding what they once had, it's better now, though. What they had before was frail, like a sheet of paper in rain. Before there was enough trust. There wasn't uncertainty and doubt, and ultimately that was their downfall. The foundations on which they have rebuilt what they had before are stronger now—there's trust, now. Reconciliation is the first step to their success.
