“So, your uncle never gave your family money?” Greer asked, confused.
“Bollard wasn’t around a lot before Grandpa died,” I told him. “Grandpa was a farmer, Grandma stayed home, and they never went hungry, even when the crops weren’t great. Knowing what I know now, Bollard probably did give them some money but not a lot. Just enough to get by. He paid for Grandma’s nurses. My dad hated Bollard, and Mom wasn’t a big fan. He gave decent gifts, but they weren’t that extravagant when you consider his money. A computer. My phone. Grandma knew the truth. I was the only idiot in my family.”
“You’re not an idiot,” Greer said. “Far from it.”
“I didn’t see my uncle for who he was.” The waves crashed over my ankles. “I thought he was benign, you know. Kind of boring and weird. I was so wrong.”
“Your grandmother was sick, so who would believe her? Bollard used his powers on your parents, and your father felt something was off. If you have a flaw, it is that you are trusting, but I can’t blame you.” The next wave soaked the bottom of Greer’s pants.
“Why do you think my uncle wasn’t around much until after my grandpa died?”
“Your grandfather probably knew the truth.”
I turned away from the ocean and to him. “You think he knew about this world and the Merrics?”
“Yes, he was her anchor, so I’m sure she told him everything.”
“Anchor? I don’t understand what you mean.”
“She loved him, and he loved her. He made everything better for her by being near her. Let me guess; she got sick unexpectedly after he died.”
I nodded. It was true. “After the farming accident.”
“It wouldn’t have been any better if she had died first. He would have died too. It’s in the Merric DNA. Once they fall in love, true love, that person doesn’t have a choice. They’re locked with the Merric until the Merric or the man dies.”
“You make falling in love with a member of my family sound like a trap.”
He didn’t disagree. “The man can’t help it even if he tries. The anchor loves the Merric for the rest of his life.”
I wanted to think of an example of someone who had gotten a divorce in my family, but my family was so small, limited. Mom was an only child. Grandma only had one brother, and he’d died in the war, only to be replaced (mistakenly by my family) by Bollard. My great-grandparents didn’t divorce but then again, people didn’t divorce back then. If my great-grandmother had siblings, it was beyond my knowledge.
“People fall out of love all the time,” I said. “Grandma loved Lothaire, and he loved her, but they broke up.”
“She loved him, but he wasn’t her anchor. He wasn’t her true love. Her true love never would have let her leave. He wouldn’t have cared about what the Merrics did because he’d love her so much he’d die before he left her. He’d fight anything, run anywhere just to be near her.” Greer took my hand again. “Time to go back, Hannah.”
The road to Pea Island was slim with the bay on one side and large dunes and the ocean on the other.
The cab dropped us off at a small cafe.
Greer opened the door for me. I waited at a little round table at the back of the store while Greer purchased us both coffees. It was growing on me although I wasn’t sure if I liked it or if it was because Greer kept getting coffee for me.
A man on his cubox was reading a paper. Headlines were about the Kansas attack. Report: As many as five hundred killed in camp explosion.
I leaned over to see better, but I could still only make out the headline. The man waved me over. “Would you like to read it?”
“Sorry,” I explained. “I forgot my cubox at home.”
Some 500 people—including ten first responders—died in a massive explosion Wednesday night at a Libratier base outside of Larned, Kansas, Mayor Joanie Ernst said, according to The Kansas World Journal.
Residents packed the Church of the Anointed in Larned to remember those who died and to pray for the survivors.
James Sampson, the head of Larned Medical, where many victims were taken, said ninety-seven patients were still hospitalized, including twenty in the intensive care unit.
The area around the site of the massive explosion that flattened much of the small Larned base remains “very volatile” due to the presence of—
Five hundred people dead. Five hundred people. I couldn’t fathom it. I didn’t want to. Enemy or not, they were people. They had families. They loved their children and their spouses. They had parents and brothers and sisters.
Greer came over and handed me my coffee. We sat in silence and drank our coffee in the air conditioning.
We left the cafe and traveled down the street and to the beach. The afternoon sun worked with the dunes to shade the once-hot sand.
Children played in tide pools. A few surfers caught small but rather lame waves. People sunbathed. Couples walked hand in hand along the shore.
We walked hand in hand.
When we were safely away from people, I asked him. “Did the Galvantry hurt those people?”
I expected him to say no. I expected him to say it was a Libratier ploy to get people on their side. “I don’t know.”
I turned on him. “You don’t know. How do you not know?”
“The Galvantry doesn’t tell its members all of its plans.”
“But you’re the good guys.” When I said it, Greer looked away. “Aren’t you?”
“I never said the Galvantry were innocent.”
“Yes, and they want me to—well, you haven’t exactly explained it but, Greer, you understand how scary this is?”
“The Merrics play the press. Through their connections, they practically own everything that’s printed.”
“You say this, but I know nothing about the Galvantry except what’s in the paper, and the paper doesn’t look good.”
“The Merrics are much worse,” he said. Greer ran his thumb over the top of
