Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
It’s still hard to believe this is real as we wander through the cult compound.
We find some clothes for Cain in one of the houses and walk hand in hand along the dirt paths, wandering aimlessly.
There’s a distinct soreness between my thighs, but the wound on my chest is minor.
And Cain seems…well, better than I’ve ever seen him, though understandably in shock.
“How much do you remember?” I ask.
“Most of it,” he says, wincing. “It felt like a dream, but I remember it. Unfortunately.” He glances toward the dead cultists littering the ground around the altar and wipes his mouth, which is still stained red around the edges.
Then he glances back at me, face coloring.
“I mean…mostly unfortunately. The ending wasn’t so bad. ”
I grin and nudge his shoulder with mine. “Not so bad for me, either.”
We’re about to search for a way to contact the MRF, but the MRF finds us first. A line of black cars kicks up a trail of dust through the desert before pulling to a stop around us. We wait; I refuse to let go of Cain’s hand.
The security team has guns at the ready as they step out, but they lower them as soon as I call out, murmuring in confusion when they see Cain.
Director Wright steps out last. She looks at me, and then at Cain, and then at our clasped hands, before her gaze shifts to the bloody ruin of the cultists left behind us.
She sighs, placing her hands on her hips. “This is going to be one hell of a cleanup job, isn’t it?”
After a whirlwind couple of weeks, Cain and I end up in Director Wright’s office, our hands clasped once more.
The MRF has been holding him in containment since the incident with the Children of the Red Sun, though I’ve been visiting him frequently.
The rest of the staff has been visiting him, too.
His presence is no longer difficult to bear, so he’s had long talks with the Facility’s therapist Mara Vance, along with his checkups with Dr. Lucy Sullivan.
Even Ezra stopped in to see Cain. After the building’s most sensitive employee was able to talk with him without any headaches or fainting or any other side effects, we started discussing the possibility of Cain’s release.
Which is why we’re here today.
“Cain will come back for regular check-ins to monitor his condition, and if he ever feels like he’s a danger to himself or others, he’ll gladly check himself back in to the MRF,” I say.
“I understand it would be difficult to trust with most subjects, but Cain was only ever here voluntarily. He placed himself in your care willingly and has turned down multiple opportunities to escape. Even if you don’t trust my ability to be unbiased, you can trust him. ”
Dr. Wright turns to Cain, who has been sitting silent and stiff in his chair, hands folded on his lap.
He’s dressed for the occasion in a slightly wrinkled dress shirt, tie, and slacks.
His long dark hair is tied back to show his pale, pretty, and perfectly human face.
“So, you truly think you’re ready to leave the Facility, Cain? ”
Cain hesitates. I try not to tense. This is the part I’ve been dreading.
Cain and I have talked about this extensively, prepped for this moment, but it’s always difficult to tell if his resolve will hold under pressure.
He’s been doing so well since the incident with the cult, but he’s still plagued with self-doubt and guilt.
I’ve had to talk him down so many times, reassuring him that he isn’t a monster, that he doesn’t deserve to be locked up forever as penance for what he’s done.
But when it comes down to it, does he believe me?
He looks over at me with a small, hesitant smile. “Yes,” he says, and my heart swells at the confidence in his tone. “I think I am. I think I’d like…a chance to live a normal life, at last.”
Normal. I never thought such a thing would be possible for me, either. And I never thought it would sound so damn good.
I wait in the hallway while Cain gathers his small collection of belongings. Most importantly, of course, his books.
Footsteps approach down the hall. I glance up—and do a double take, gasping.
“Barnes!” I rush toward him and throw my arms around his neck with such force that he staggers. I release him quickly, remembering his injury, but he laughs and pulls me back in for a longer hug. “How are you feeling?” I ask, when I finally pull away.
“Not bad,” he says. “Got one hell of a battle scar, though.” He lifts a bandaged arm, and I wince in sympathy. “I heard the news about Cain,” he says.
I tense slightly, remembering all the times Barnes urged caution. He’s been in quarantine the entire time we worked out Cain’s release, so I’m not sure if he’s against it or not.
But after a moment, he smiles. “You were right all along. Congratulations.”
I beam at him. “Thanks, Barnes.”
“Take some time off to relax.” His eyes crinkle at the corners with genuine happiness. “And when you’re ready, come talk to me. With the way things are going around here, I need people that I can trust more than ever.”
It puts a slight damper on the mood. Things have been tense in Ash Valley.
The locals aren’t going to easily forget the earthquakes and the blood rain, even now that they’ve stopped.
There have been a lot of protests at the gates, a lot of long conversations between Director Wright and various city officials.
“You can count on me,” I assure him. “But first I do need some time to myself. Sor—”
He holds up a hand. “Don’t you dare apologize.
You deserve as much time as you want.” We both glance at the door to Room Sixteen as Cain emerges, a backpack full of suspiciously book-shaped lumps over one shoulder.
The head of security offers a hand, and Cain clasps it.
“Both of you deserve some peace,” Barnes says.
Cain pauses on the threshold of the building, staring at the outside world. I hold out a hand and wait—and after a moment, he slides his palm against mine, our fingers twining, and steps with me into the sunlight.
It feels surreal, walking through the parking lot with him. He tilts his head, gazing up at the sky, eyelids fluttering as a breeze rustles his hair. His fingers are tight against mine, his palm sweaty. When he glances back at the Facility, I swear I catch a glimpse of red in his eyes.
I pretend not to notice, though my heart skips a beat. But once we both get in the car, I dig a pair of aviator sunglasses out of my purse and hand them over.
He flashes a half smile as he puts them on. “Thanks.”
I tap my fingers on the wheel, suddenly uncertain. “Well… Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”
“I…” He stares at me, shrugging. “I don’t know.”
“You didn’t have anything in mind?” I ask. “Things you wished you could do if you got out?”
“Not really,” he says. “I never really thought this would happen, so I didn’t think about it much.” He looks out the window, gaze again drifting toward the MRF. “I guess I didn’t even know what to imagine.”
“Well…” I start the car. “Let’s just drive around and see what catches your eye.”
We spend the day exploring Ash Valley. The town is quieter than it used to be, local businesses shuttered and streets oddly empty, but it doesn’t dampen our mood.
We spend some time perusing a local bookstore and walk out with a heavy stack of cozy mysteries, grab a slice of pie at the diner, walk through the park side by side.
Cain’s anxiety is evident every time he has to talk to someone—even ordering food has him stumbling over his words—but as the day goes on and nothing terrible happens, he relaxes, little by little.
He sips his coffee, enjoys his pie, geeks out over his new books.
He pauses just to admire the birds and the trees and the clouds overhead.
And I do, too. None of this is new to me like it is to him, but… I find myself noticing so many details I wouldn’t have before. There are so many small and beautiful things in this world, when I take the time to look.
At the end of the evening, we sit together on the trunk of my car and watch the sun set over the distant mountains, painting the desert pink and orange and purple.
“So what happens now?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I confess. Truth be told, I never thought I would get a chance at a life unburdened by guilt, either.
I spent so long thinking that I had to earn my survival and spend the rest of my life proving that I deserved it.
But now… Now I just want a chance to see what normal looks like. “Life, I guess.”
And whatever comes next, we’ll figure it out together. We get to decide what the future holds, this time, not whatever fate once bound us.
“Willow…” Cain hesitates, suddenly uncertain as he looks at me. He pushes his sunglasses up on his head, and I catch a flash of red in his gaze again. “What if I become a monster again?”
I search his gaze. The red is gone, but I know I didn’t imagine it. I’ve caught glimpses since the incident with the cult. That side of him isn’t entirely gone. It may never be. But it doesn’t matter. “Then you’ll be my monster.”