The Ark. Laura Nolen Liddell

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СКАЧАТЬ do no harm then, right, baby?”

      She waved the gun. “I will shoot you.”

      “Maybe he can help?” I said. “Maybe we should let—”

      “Char. I can. NOT. Emphasize this enough: Shut up.”

      Cassa was panicking. Panic is weakness, and a great way to lose the game at the last minute, but her instincts were right: Isaiah was up to something. I was glad she hadn’t seen him tinkering under the dash. She’d have shot him, cold. And it would have been the right move for her, then.

      But it was too late for that now.

      Her voice raised in pitch. “Mole! I will shoot her!”

      Isaiah spoke calmly from behind the trunk. “Who’s gonna drive the car, Cassa? You? Maybe I should try it.”

      Cassa realized the futility of her stance. She couldn’t possibly shoot me yet. We were six hours from Saint John and the OPT, and I was the only one who could drive the car.

      But she could kill Isaiah.

      She shot out of the car. I fumbled with my seatbelt for an instant before following her. My view of Isaiah was blocked by the open trunk.

      Kip realized what Isaiah was up to before I did. But he was all the way in the front of the car, trying to pry open the hood. And Isaiah was nearly to the trunk.

      I figured it out when I saw the look on Kip’s face. He bolted towards Isaiah, who had just ducked behind the open trunk. I threw open my door, slamming it into Kip’s hips. It barely slowed him down, but it was all the time Isaiah needed. He emerged from behind the trunk holding the rifle.

      Cassa leveled the gun at Isaiah’s heart. I threw myself at her, making contact as the shot went off.

      “Hoo, now,” said Isaiah. I breathed out. It had missed him.

      I scrambled to my feet, but Cassa was faster. Her gun squared with my face. I froze, halfway to standing, and lifted my hands. But I knew it wouldn’t matter. She wore her hatred as plainly as the features of her face. In that moment, she wanted me dead more than she wanted the car to run. More than anything.

      A second shot rang out, deeper and more hollow than the first, rattling back and forth between the trees on either side of the interstate.

      Cassa hit the ground, face up, and didn’t move. Red splotches blossomed over her shirt. Isaiah stepped out from behind the trunk. He had a steady grip on Meghan’s rifle.

      Kip was quick, but I had always been quicker. By the time he started moving, I had pried the gun from Cassa’s fingers and pointed it at Kip.

      I hazarded a shaky glance back at Isaiah. From the look of it, he was well aware that his shot had hit its mark.

      My attention turned back to Kip, whose hands were raised and whose face was marked with defeat. He stepped back, knowing already that we weren’t going to shoot him unless he tried to get back in the car. Neither of us spoke to the other. I guess we had already said everything there was to say.

      We left him there, on the side of the interstate, with Cassa’s body. Even after everything that had come between us, I knew I’d never recover the piece of my soul that stayed with them.

      It was a long time before Isaiah spoke. “Thank you,” he said. “For stopping her. And for bringing me.”

      “Thank you, too. You know.” I gestured at the shrinking forms of Kip and Cassa in the rear view mirror, as though Isaiah could see me, or them.

      “It’s nothing.”

      His words hung in the air. We were quiet for a few more miles, and then Isaiah spoke. “Charlotte.”

      “Yes?”

      “Maybe I do want out after all.”

      Isaiah leaned back in his seat. He looked content, comfortable. Too comfortable, if I’d understood him correctly.

      Which I pretended not to. “Out of what?”

      “This. All this.”

      “Meaning…”

      He tilted his head up and touched the roof of the car with one long finger.

      I sighed. “Meaning we’re going to Boston.”

      He smiled. “If you’ll take me.”

      I stared at the road, saying nothing, calculating the miles and hours in my head. After a long moment, I turned the car around.

       Six

      The car door slammed shut, and I blinked at the harsh white of the sidewalk in front of Isaiah’s home.

      He was already at the front door. He’d dealt with Cassa almost single-handedly, and he’d had no problem directing me to his house, so I couldn’t figure why it struck me as bizarre to watch him find his way to the front door without me.

      It wasn’t his blindness. In juvy, he’d moved with an easy confidence. It was magnetic. Other people sought him out, and when they walked together, they matched their pace to his.

      But he was different here, in this moment. He looked out of place. His confidence had dissipated, and only determination filled its place. He was slower, relying heavily on his cane. I watched it sweep over the path to the door, making more passes than usual. I wasn’t fooled for a moment. He could have found his way without it. Then he reached forward to knock on the door, and I felt his shame, his brokenness, as he’d put it, and understood.

      It sucks to knock on the door of your own home.

      I continued to stare as a small curtain shifted to reveal a face. The curtain froze, then swished back into place. Long moments passed before the door finally cracked.

      A young man stepped onto the porch and regarded Isaiah with frank distaste. I regretted leaving our weapons in the car, but Isaiah had insisted.

      The man shook his head. “So they let you out.”

      Isaiah cleared his throat. “Something like that.” He seemed younger, suddenly. He’d always been, to me, one of the oldest souls in juvy. Full of wisdom and easy laughter. But all that was gone now. He was exposed, vulnerable. Childlike.

      “And you came here.”

      “Abel. I just want to see Mom.”

      “There’s nothing for you here, Ise. Leave us be.”

      This must be Isaiah’s brother. The man who’d blinded him. They stood there like statues, but I wanted to scream. “He can’t leave, not now. It’s the last—”

      Abel looked at me. My jaw snapped shut, and I stepped back inadvertently. But his words to me were softer than I expected. “It’s too late СКАЧАТЬ