Vagabonds

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Guilty

"Go back! We have to go back! Turn around, we have to save him!"

Eliza squirmed in Aquila's arms, twisting to watch Fitzgerald Base disappearing to the slow, steady beat of Aquila's wings. She could see soldiers squeezing through the crack Joe's truck had created, congealing around shattered concrete like platelets around a wound. Jeeps swung into view, high beams slicing through the night, ready to chase Old Betty down. But she couldn't see her friend. That awful moment played in her mind again and again and again. Joe falling, Amile stepping in front of him, Aquila dragging her away.

Tears blurred her vision as they sailed into the rapidly darkening night, leaving the base behind.

"Please," she sobbed. "Please go back."

"It wouldn't do any good," Aquila said, his voice shaking even as he soared gracefully over the evergreen tips. "We need to regroup."

"Why would she want Joe? What's she going to do with him?"

"I think she was aiming for me."

Eliza wasn't sure it was that simple. Amile had wanted Aquila, there was no doubt about that. But she'd seemed just as pleased to get the tall redheaded boy instead. Eliza blinked and that chilling serpentine smile appeared on the back of her eyelids.

What was Amile thinking as her men dragged Joe away?

The question was enough to make Eliza shiver.

Hanging limp in Aquila's arms, her mind vortexed with panic. It was her fault, all her fault. She'd been the one to drag Joe into the woods, ask for his help in escaping Amile's men. She'd used him at every turn, taken his friendship for granted, and now...

Now he was gone.

Through blurry eyes, Eliza saw something approaching them, a dark shape against the clouds.

Tero.

He waved at Aquila with one hand, the glitter of a cellphone light illuminating the underside of his face.

"T-t-the others w-will meet us in t-t-the woods. D-d-don't want to lead them h-h-home."

The dark-skinned boy looked almost pale in the moonlight, his white eyes wide, his stutter worse than ever. Tero's leathery wings might be silent, but Eliza could almost hear his thudding worry. Only last week, this Vagabond had been reading, playing video games, safe in his adopted father's basement.

And now he was running for his life.

Another thing for Eliza to take blame for.

Aquila nodded and tilted his wings, sweeping them away from the distant spires of the Eckelson estate and deeper into the forest. Eliza didn't react. She watched her feet pass over the carpet of greenery, a detached numbness spreading through her. She'd failed, utterly and completely, and it was impossible to face. Instead, she found her mind shutting down, blocking out the night like a TV screen going dark.

A memory popped into her emptying mind: Katie coming home from her freshman year of college, right before she was diagnosed. Thin and pale, the beginnings of the illness making her hair look like tattered thread, she'd come up to Eliza and opened her arms. And Eliza had turned away. At twelve, Eliza was already struggling with anger and the strange tides of puberty. Some of her nameless rage had settled on her sister. After all, Katie had left. Katie had abandoned her. Katie had moved on. To a younger Eliza, it had seemed like the most unforgivable of sins.

Until Katie left for good.

What would you have done? Eliza thought, lifting the question like a lantern. What would you do now?

Aquila folded his wings and they began to drop, but this time Eliza didn't scream. The two of them plummeted through tree branches and leaves, a few whacking Eliza beneath the chin. She barely noticed. The moment they landed, Eliza's knees gave out. She sagged into Aquila's arms. The other Vagabonds and Tori clustered around, voices swirling, beating against the numb edges of Eliza's mind.

But she couldn't think through the tears.

"What in the fucking hell was that?"

"We have to save my brother!"

"Did you see what I did in there? They were like woah and I was like oh no, but that Joe guy, Eliza's friend, his truck must be made of steel to break through that door. I guess it might literally be made of steel..."

Aquila wasn't listening, turning his back on the cluster of bodies and crouching down to catch Eliza's eye.

"You okay?"

Slowly, as if she was drugged, Eliza raised her gaze.

"No," she said, not sure what else to offer. What else to give. She was broken, finally brought down by the very thing her mother had always warned her about.

One of these days you're going to land yourself in real trouble, and then what will you do?

But the problem was that she hadn't landed herself in real trouble.

She'd landed Joe in it.

Suddenly, Aquila was shoved aside. Tori's face appeared, blocking out the moon with a halo of blonde hair.

"We need to make a plan, Eliza. My brother's still in there, and now your friend, whatever his name is. We need to act fast."

I suppose I should thank you, Amile had said. You've made it almost easy. A call from your roommate. A missing sibling pulling at the heartstrings.

Something stirred in Eliza's chest.

A missing sibling pulling at the heartstrings.

"You knew," Eliza whispered.

"Pull yourself together, Eliza," Tori went on. "You need to—"

"You knew."

That time, her words broke through. Tori fell silent, mouth falling open.

"What are you talking about?"

Eliza clenched her fists.

"You called me when your brother went missing. You helped her lure us in." She spat on the ground between them. "You planned this."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Why should we trust you? Why did I ever trust you? You've been nothing but cruel and petty and stupid —"

Without warning, Tori's hand came out of nowhere, slapping Eliza, snapping her head to the side. Her teeth clicked together, cheek burning in the perfect imprint of Tori's palm. Eliza gasped, clutched her face, but Tori was leaning in like all the challenges Eliza had never been able to turn down.

"I'm not stupid," Tori growled, voice red-hot and violent.

Maybe it was the numbness, or maybe it was just years of cultivated impulsiveness, but Eliza was powerless to stop the wave of pure, unfiltered rage that washed through her. Fists clenched. Muscles pulled taut. Her stomach roiled with the nauseated hunger for blood.

Without pausing to think, Eliza lunged at Tori.