Chapter 33
Thirty-Three
T he dark waters that have been my view out the private jet window for the last several hours finally give way. It's hard to make out any specifics of the land below, but there's an electricity to it. It cracks and fizzes, causing the hairs on my arms to rise. Within the grids formed by streets, life carries on the way it should. And it’s a strange thought.
Ryland leans into me, so he can see the passing terrain of his home continent. The pounding of his heart is so strong, I can feel it against my arm. His green eyes focus on every detail as if he's looking for a familiar landmark—something to prove this is real and reassures him that he's almost home.
I intertwine my fingers with his and kiss the side of his head. The show of affection is as much for me as it is for him. I'd be lying if I said the jittery nerves I feel are only due to the excitement. The closer we get to touching down in Giran, the more I worry about what will happen next. Of course, there are the obvious answers, like being reunited with our families and putting the pieces of our lives back together, but what has me anxious is the aftermath. When life settles, and our needs aren't the same as they were battling the Affliction, will he still want to be with me when he's returned to the distractions of the life he once had? It's a question I've been pondering for hours.
I'm not the only one turning questions over in my head. Ever since the plane landed on the island’s runway, all of us have gone silent. It’s like we’re afraid if we react too strongly it will vanish. We stayed calm as we greeted the Giran government official assigned to escorting us, and the flight crew who have offered us glasses of wine and an in-flight meal our stomachs were too nervous to eat. This should be the most comfortable journey we've taken in three years, yet each of us is battling with anxiety.
The captain's voice comes over the intercom system. “Please fasten your seatbelts as we will make our final descent into the city of Baxion. We are scheduled to touch down in the next twenty minutes. On behalf of the flight crew and myself, I would like to say what an honor it has been serving you and welcome home.”
With a quick squeeze, Ryland lets go of my hand and sits back in his seat. He fidgets with his lower lip as he stares out the window at the passing clouds. I wish I could crawl into his head and see what he's thinking. His silence is driving me crazy.
Our escort stands and turns to face us. “I've been advised that word of your arrival has spread. The small airfield we will land in is swarming with media. We were hoping to make your homecoming a private matter, but it looks as if it will not be the case.”
“Will we be able to go home right away?” Aiden asks from his seat near the front.
“Honestly, Mr. Donnelly, this has all escalated so quickly. I don't have all the answers for you. My job was to simply get you onto this aircraft.”
I turn to Ryland. His attention is still directed out the window. I reach up and brush a strand of hair from his forehead, and his eyes to shift to me.
“Almost home.” I grin.
“It feels surreal. We shouldn't be coming home without Dylan.” He runs his fingers under his eyes.
I now know exactly where his mind has been for the last ten hours. Of all the things he overcame during his time stranded on Stern, this is the one that no matter what he did, he couldn't make right. The guilt of returning home without one of his best friends will forever resonate within him. And nothing I do or say will ever eliminate that pain.
I reach for his hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing his knuckles. Even if he feels like he failed, I know he didn't. He fought for Dylan until the end, and when hope was lost, he sacrificed his soul to give his friend eternal peace. The choice he made was solely out of love. And he took that heartache and despair and turned it into the driving force that kept the others alive. He has committed his every breath to this very moment.
The mission he set out to do is finally done.
The plane trembles as the tires meet the tarmac, and I look around at the uncertainty written on everyone's faces. It’s real. It’s so fucking real. When the plane comes to a stop, the crew will open the doors and everything will change. The boys are coming home, but not to the life they left. This is a new beginning with the return of some familiar faces.
None of us rush to exit. Instead, we procrastinate, gathering our backpacks. It's weird that we brought them with us. We each have no more than a single item we care about inside them, but they've been our security blankets for so long. It's an old habit and will be hard to break.
When everyone is ready, they turn to Ryland. I don't doubt that if he told them we were going to close the door and return to Stern, they'd all follow. I’d follow. Even in the most joyous moment, we're still looking to him for guidance. He reaches back and takes my hand, and we lead everyone off the aircraft.
Cheers and applause erupt as we descend the steps. A massive group of people hold signs, standing behind a chain-link fence several paces from the tarmac. Camera flashes click and disperse bright light from a taped-off section where reporters wait for a chance at this breaking story. But one group of people claim my attention. They are clasping hands and blotting their teary eyes with a tissue.
I'm anticipating the moment Ryland lets go of my hand and runs to those waiting for him. Instead, he stops when his feet touch the ground and guides me down the final step. His grasp on my fingers tightens and his stride picks up speed. It's not until he's face to face with a dark-haired woman that he lets me go and pulls her into his arms. She clings on to him and sobs his name over and over again. She pulls away and takes his face in her hands and kisses his cheeks, nose, and forehead. Two older men who appear to be his father and stepfather stand on either side of him, speaking at once and patting him on the back. A pretty blonde girl with green eyes and lips shaped like his waits her turn to greet him.
I take a step back to give him a moment with his family, but he curls his fingers, beckoning me forward. I hesitantly return to his side with a shy smile on my face.
“This is my girlfriend, Quinn. Quinn, I’d like you to meet my mom, Liz, and my dad, Harry. This is Ben, my stepfather. And Avery, my sister.”
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” I say, shaking his sister’s and Ben’s hands.
When I turn to Liz, a warm smile spreads over her face. Like she knows that I’ve not been hugged by a mom in a very long time, she opens her arms, and I step into her embrace. “It’s so very good to meet you, Quinn. We’re so happy you’re here.”
Her words are like a sledgehammer. They beat against the dam that holds my emotions back and crack it open.
I let the tears fall as I say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, letting me go.
I remain quietly at Ryland’s side and watch the other boys reunite with their families.
Wes comes bolting past us and throws himself into a cluster of females varying in age. The oldest adorns him with the same affection Ryland's mother gave to him. A toddler boy is placed in his arms and the women circling them explain to the child that Wes is his big brother. The little boy squeals at seeing him for the first time and throws his arms around Wes's neck. A chorus of feminine sighs rings out, and they huddle together for a group hug.
With a confident stride, Aiden walks into the waiting arms of his mom and dad. A massive smile spreads across his face as he apologizes for not calling during his extended vacation. They laugh as he cracks jokes, and his father replies with his own quick wit. The two carry on until their laughter mixes with the joyous mutterings round us.
The constant incoherent words of a woman sobbing are the next to catch my attention. A little blonde woman dotes on Noah. She's in overjoyed hysterics, tears streaming down her face, and he good-naturedly laughs as he tries to calm her. She doesn't let go of him, and he has to work around her to give his father and two sisters a hug. Noah reaches back for River and pulls her into their group.
“Mom. Dad. This is my girlfriend, River,” he says.
River goes to shake Noah's mother's hand, but the woman releases her grip on her son and pulls her into a hug. “You're so beautiful,” she tells her, before saying to her son, “She's gorgeous, Noah.”
He bursts into a deep belly laugh. “I know, Mom.”
I place my hands in the pockets of my jeans and take in the beautiful sight before me.
We made it.
Each one of these people who I'd give my life for is safe and being showered with the affections of their families. They will never have another sleepless night worrying about the Affliction again.
Ryland squeezes my shoulder and says, “I’ll be back.”
“Okay,” I say, following his gaze to where a tearful woman with salt-and-pepper hair and almond-shaped eyes is comforted by a teenage boy and girl. Something in my gut knows who they are—Dylan’s family.
With his shoulders slumped, Ryland walks toward them.
Aiden also notices the isolated family, and with the same heaviness moves their way. “Mac,” he yells and jerks his head to the side.
Wes taps Noah on the shoulder, and the three of them fall in line with Ryland. When they're standing before the fifth family, Ryland says something, and the woman shakes her head and flings herself into his arms. His tall frame envelops her in a firm hug, and soon the other boys gather around to comfort her and her children. When they let go of each other, Ryland reaches for his nape and unclasps the necklace he always wears. He slides Dylan's pendant into her palm. She closes her fist around it and hugs Ryland again.
River moves in next to me with tears in her eyes. I place my arm around her waist and lean my head on her shoulder. As we watch as the boys mourn the loss of their friend with his family, it's impossible not to feel immense gratitude toward not losing each other.
“Quinnten and River Ellery?” says a voice from behind us.
At the same time, we reply, “Yes” and come face to face with a man wearing a plain black suit and tie. His dark hair is brushed to the side and his face is set with a no-nonsense kind of look.
“My name is Agent Abraham Hobbs, and I'm with Giran’s Secret Intelligence Service.” He reaches out his hand, and we each shake it before he continues, “I'm sorry your family is not here. We had issues locating them, but we finally reached Amara's mother last night. She told us they are on a humanitarian trip in the central region of Bogati. We have a team trying to contact them as we speak.”
My heart flutters at the mention of Josh and Amara. It figures they would be out helping the less fortunate. Even with us lost in a disease-ridden continent, they've carried on showing compassion to others who suffer. Nobody would blame them if they wallowed in their grief, but that's not who they are. It's not who they taught us to be.
“Thank you, Agent Hobbs,” River says.
The boys gather around us, and the agent introduces himself to them.
Noah pulls River to his side, and he says, “I wish there was a way we could repay Giran for everything they did to rescue us.”
Hobbs gives a stiff-lipped grin. “We will have questions for you in the coming days. It has been some time since we've had contact with anyone living among the Afflicted. We will use any help you can give toward eradicating the disease in Stern.”
My ears burn at hearing that Giran has also been trying to fight the Affliction. For some reason, I had it in my mind that Stern was shut off from the rest of the world and never thought of again. That seems to be far from the truth. The world wants answers and to know that the Affliction has been permanently dealt with.
I pull my backpack off and open it. Ryland moves behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and looks over my shoulder. My hands tremble as I reach past the photo album of my mother and in between a folded set of clothes. My fingers hit smooth glass molded into tubes with rubber tops. I gather the vials into my palm, and before I pull them out, I look up at him.
His eyes widen, registering what the green liquid sloshing around inside is. I need him to give me the go-ahead because once I open this door, there will be no turning back. Ryland will become a test subject, and our lives will continue to be tethered to what we wanted to leave behind. All of us will still be a vital part of the fight against the Affliction.
For a moment, his body goes rigid, and his eyes dart back and forth, searching mine for the answer. Something flashes across his face and he finally relaxes. “It's your call. Either way, we're in this together,” he quietly says, holding me tighter.
An internal debate rages within me. Do we move on and forget, or does the fight continue? Millions are dead, and many more will be terminated due to the virus and its effects. I could walk away right now and never look back, but can I do that? There is a place where people are tortured and others unknowingly suppressed by a tyrant. Am I any better than William if I turn away?
I close my eyes and lean the side of my head onto Ryland's. He presses his lips to the sensitive skin below my ear and whispers, “I got you, love.”
I close my fist around the vials and push them to the bottom of my bag. This isn't what I want. I fought to get here so we could all move on and build our perfect lives in houses with picket fences. This is our chance to fall in love and raise families of our own away from the virus that strips those things away. I want Ryland and I to find our normal and ignorantly bask in it until the day we die. It's our future for theirs.
And that's it.
Our ignorant bliss may be comfortable, but at what cost to others?
I squeeze my eyes shut, lift my hand out of the bag, and hold it out. Uncurling my fingers from around the vials, I reveal the priceless antidote inside.
Hobbs stares at my offering with thick, knitted brows.
“It's the cure,” I say, watching as disbelief washes over the agent.
Ryland's solid arms increase their hold on my body, and his lips turn in a lopsided grin. I feel every ounce of love he has for me as he says, “That's my girl.”