Page 24 of The Godhead Complex
“What are you talking about?” Sadina snapped at her mother, like only a daughter could. Her mom’s stance and body language only added to the fear. “What’s going on?”
“I’m so sorry, Sadina.” Her mom looked at her as if she were supposed to know what that meant. Sadina turned to Isaac but he just stared at the ground. “I won’t be traveling to Alaska with you all.” She avoided her own daughter’s eye contact.
Sadina froze, top to bottom, with a stunned sickness. Then she began to tremble with anger and hurt.
Words poured out of her. “What’s the point of a vote if you’re going to make your own rules as you go, Mom? We voted. Majority wins. We’re going to Alaska.Allof us.” She tried to be verbally cutting as she spoke.
“It’s not because I don’t want to go, but Isaac and I have decided—”
“Isaac?” Sadina’s torment shifted to her old friend.What in the hell was going on?Isaac’s only response was to look at Sadina’s mom as if he wanted her to give an excuse. But no excuse could settle the fire in Sadina’s stomach.
“We’re going to the Villa,” Isaac said unapologetically, and that hurt more than the rest of it. As much as it had hurt to see his hand fly up for the Villa when they voted all those days ago. She searched for answers to make this make sense, but she couldn’t. Even the way Isaac and her mom stood five or six feet away from the group seemed like an ill omen, like they had already split apart. Why didn’t they show any emotion? Regret? Remorse?
She tried to use reason. “Timon and Letti said the Villa was bad. They saved our lives to get us away from the Villa!” She was yelling by the end and turned to Trish for support.
“Yeah, we all promised we’d stick together,” Trish said, somewhat pathetically.
“It’s our only chance,” Isaac said to the ground.
“Chance at what?!” Sadina stepped forward, demanding that they tell her their full plan, and in the moment she completely forgot the others were standing there. They were all so quiet, all anticipating the same thing. Answers.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” her mom said, tears in her eyes as she pulled the scarf from her neck and revealed the nastiest, reddest rash Sadina had ever seen. She trembled with disbelief.
“Oh good God,” Roxy sputtered.
“Ms. Cowan!” Miyoko cried.
Sadina felt her whole body shake as if Minho had blown the horn of theMaze Cutteragain.
“It’s not the Flare. It can’t be.” Her mom rambled on, trying to reassure her that everything was okay, that they’d meet up again soon, but Sadina heard none of it. She knew the truth. Her mom’s eyes looked hollow. Everything was far from okay.
The knife that he’d forged wasn’t sharp enough to cut skin or kill a slug, but it was sharp enough to carve something into tree bark. He traced the point of the blade across a downed tree while the others gathered around Cowan and Sadina. He didn’t need to witness the long goodbye and he didn’t know what to say, anyway, so he just sat back.
Cowan’s rash looked worse than it did two days ago. Even that morning Isaac had still held out hope that maybe it would fade. But no, it was worse. There was no other plan, now. This wasn’t going to be some breakaway adventure where Cowan and Isaac just waited behind for everyone to rejoin them later. This was a rescue mission. He needed to figure out how to get Cowan to the Villa.
Minho kicked up sand with every step as he walked over to the downed shore log. “If I knew saying goodbye could take a whole day I’d have made you do this announcement yesterday.” Minho sat down next to Isaac.
Isaac never felt jealous of Minho, not until this moment. There they were, around the same age, with the same goal: to go to Alaska and protect Sadina, but only one of them would be getting up off the log to do so. He hated thinking of all the things he’d miss out on, and what awaited him on his new path, and he felt empty. “She just needs some time to process.” He gestured at Trish consoling Sadina by the remnants of last night’s campfire. “It’s not easy saying goodbye to a parent when you might never see them again.” He wasn’t sure if Sadina was lucky for the chance to say goodbye to her mom, a chance he’d never had, or if that made her unlucky.
“I wouldn’t know,” Minho said as he looked out at the ocean.
Isaac pushed his knife deeper into the log and removed chunks of bark in a specific design that would last long after he was gone. “Sorry, life doesn’t always make sense.” He didn’t know what was worse: never having parents to miss like Minho, or Isaac having the best parents in the world and knowing exactly what he missed when they left. “If you did know, you’d understand . . .” He waited for Minho to say something cold and soldierlike, but he just looked out at the small waves as they crashed against the boat. The soft clapping sound reminded Isaac of life back on the island and how he used to watch the waves hit the rocks along the cliffs. He wasn’t just missing home, he already missed everyone who reminded him of home. Dominic, Miyoko, Jackie, Old Man Frypan, and of course Trish and Sadina.
Minho picked up a stone and began sharpening his own knife. “The rock has to be porous for this to work.” He looked up at Isaac and his newly forged blade. His pathetic attempt. “I don’t know if it’ll work with yours.”
“Any other advice?” Isaac meant it sarcastically but it wasn’t received that way.
Minho used quick short strokes of the rock. “Watch for Cranks. Don’t trust anyone. Always assume the person you come upon is going to try to kill you. Because out here, they will.”
Isaac looked down at his carving and thought about everything. He’d miss Old Man Frypan’s cooking. He’d miss Roxy being snarky. He’d miss the group campfires.
“Here, take this.” Minho handed his freshly sharpened knife to Isaac. “I know you’re not good with guns, but you’ll need something out here more than an art tool.”
Isaac took the better blade. The weight of it felt like a force to be reckoned with. It sure beat the one he’d tried to hammer up on the fly. “Thanks.” Isaac sat with a sense of disbelief and something like grief. Emptiness and loss watching the others. He was losing everything he’d ever known all over again, and that’s its own kind of grief. “If things don’t go well for you in Alaska, will you promise me something?”
“What’s that?” Minho asked.
“If things turn sideways, promise you’ll come back down the coast and check this spot right here for me. I’m not sure about the Villa, and if something happens to Cowan I’ll be . . .”
