Protests broke out among the people.
Woody stepped forward. “Shut up!”
As the mob quieted, a man with hair the color of pitch stood. “From what I understand, she’s from The Center.”
“She can’t be trusted,” a female in the back complained.
Candy bolted to her feet, her face as blazing red as her hair. “How can you even offer her a position on the committee without talking to us first?”
“The decision has been made, Candy,” said Jordan.
Candy’s face changed shades of red, lighting her freckles on fire. They brightened past the shade of her hair. “No one asked me.”
“You’re only an alternate.”
“What about Jason? He holds a seat.” She glanced at Jason. He turned away, his shoulders hunched defensively.
Candy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “How dare you?” she spat. “After everything we talked about?” She faced the crowd, sweeping her arm toward Ellyssa. “She’s a spy. She’s going to destroy us.”
“Listen,” Jordan croaked.
Words never followed. The leader bent over, coughing. His face turned the color of ash, and blue flooded his lips. He hacked again and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
“Take his other arm,” Ellyssa ordered Woody, whose feet were apparently bolted to the platform. “We need to take him to the hospital.”
Ellyssa’s voice broke Woody from his shock, and he moved to take Jordan’s arm.
Jordan waved them both away. The old man spat reddish-green mucus onto the stony ground. “I’m going to finish this,” he said. “Then, I will go.”
Jordan’s face drew into a weathered scowl, and his eyes hardened as he looked out into the crowd. “I have led you, and our community has survived while others were captured.” His voice was amazingly strong and unwavering. “Ours survived against all odds. But it wasn’t just because of my leadership; it was because we accepted new members. We brought in new knowledge, new ideas, new ways of doing things from all walks of life. It was because of
The elder struggled to stand, and Ellyssa assisted him. He straightened his back and leveled his gaze onto his people. “It is no secret that I am sick…and old. And as a last word to you all…my last plea. Trust me on this. I wouldn’t lead you astray.”
“No,” Candy roared. “She can’t be trusted. None of you saw her that day in the store. The way she moves, how fast she is. It’s not natural.”
Jason grabbed her wrist and tried to make her sit, but she ripped away from his grasp and whirled around on him. “And you,” she seethed accusingly. “You traitor.” She stomped from the room, her footfalls slapping against the stone.
All eyes followed her until she disappeared down a tunnel. They returned their attention to the old man.
“Trust me,” Jordan said.
Jason and Woody put Jordan on the cot next to hers. His breaths came in short, wheezing gasps.
Looking lost, Jason rocked on his feet for a moment before retreating back into the tunnel; hands shoved in his pockets. He stayed at the edge of the entrance, his eyes downcast.
“What are we supposed to do?” Woody asked.
Ellyssa didn’t have an answer for him. Her medical education went as far as first aid, not enough to cure what ailed an aging man. All she knew to do, Trista was already doing—applying a wet cloth to his forehead. “I don’t know.” Strangely, even now, she noticed how her speech flipped-flopped back and forth.
The old man started choking again.
Ellyssa’s heart sputtered. Panic. She squashed the sensation before it incapacitated her. Slipping into her old skin, her comfort zone when chaos emerged, she became stoic; the turmoil inside her faded away.
“Grab that bowl,” Ellyssa said to Woody.
Woody handed it to her, and she put it under the old man just in time for Jordan to empty the contents of his stomach. Phlegm and bile filled the bowl, sloshing over one side.
“I am so sorry,” she said.
Jordan looked at her with dulled eyes. Beads of perspiration glimmered on his forehead. “No need for sorrow,” he muttered.
“I do not know what to do.”
He grinned. “Neither do I.”
Trista wrung the cloth out in a basin of water and placed it back on his head.
“What will make you comfortable?” Ellyssa asked.
“I want you to listen,” he said to Ellyssa, his voice low. She knelt closer to hear him. “My son, Jeremy, found you for a reason. I know it.”
He inhaled. Ellyssa could hear the sickening rattle deep inside his chest. She glanced at Woody; sorrow fixed his features and his eyes filled with tears.
“I know there is conflict, but I believe in you. You’ll do what is right.”
Watching the old man fade away right before her eyes put a chink in her armor. “Jordan,” she said, fighting to hang on to her impassiveness, “I do not know what you mean.” Her voice shook.
“You will,” Jordan said. His lips curled into a grin. Then, with his last breath, the leader’s eyes glazed over, forever stilled.
“Jordan.” She shook his arm. He didn’t respond.
Misery and loss, profound and unending, completely enveloped her, the strength unlike any sensation she’d felt thus far. Powerless, not knowing how to respond, the emotion smothered the logic of her mind. Her apathetic cocoon shattered into tiny fragments, the pieces forever gone. Tears floated in her eyes before overflowing down her cheeks.
“What am I supposed to do?” Ellyssa looked helplessly at Trista.
“I’m going to let the others know,” Trista said, her words almost undecipherable as she backed out of the hospital.
Jason left with her.
Ellyssa shook Jordan’s arm again, tears streaming down her face. She tried to blink them back, but they just kept coming, like an incessant drip from a leaky faucet. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make them stop. She remembered the first time tears had reached her eyes when she divulged her secret to Jordan, Rein, and Mathew, but this was different. She had absolutely no control.
She moaned, then sobs racked her body.
A hand touched her shoulder. She turned. Woody stood over her, his grey eyes shadowed.
“There’s nothing you can do,” he said, his voice cracking.
Woody pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. Ellyssa had never thought about needing comfort, needing the touch of another human being, given by a man who didn’t care for her. She needed it now. Returning his embrace, she buried her face in his chest and let the emotion take her into new territory.
25
After crying what seemed like a river of tears, Ellyssa sat on her cot. Her eyes were dry and raw. The memory of Jordan, his face peacefully at rest, was imprinted in her brain. His people had gathered to pay tribute as he was lowered into a grave, tossing in wildflowers.
Ellyssa had never witnessed a funeral. When someone died at The Center, the empty shells disappeared into the incinerator, burned like trash. But here, the death of a loved one was mourned, their memory cherished.
