Page 3 of The Infinite Glade
“It’ll be okay, Jackie,” was all he could get out.
Isaac didn’t have a family back on the island to miss him, but Jackie did. Who knew how many days it had been since the group of islanders left in the middle of the night with Kletter, and how much Jackie’s poor family and the others’ parents were freaking out.
“Everyone back home is safe and they always will be.”
The emptiness of the words almost sucked the oxygen from the air around them.
He imagined how those back on the island were reacting to the missing kids and how the island as a whole was coping with some of their Senators being gone, too. He wanted to make them all proud by helping the Godhead find a Cure and put some good out into the world. He hated to think about Ximena being right—there not being a cure, the Godhead being bad people.
Jackie shook her head..
Trish’s parents were probably keeping the council and Senate busy with demands to find their daughter. Dominic’s parents were probably sending feathers into the ocean like toy boats, to ask the waves for good luck in bringing him home. And the others . . . probably just re-reading the goodBook of Newt, hoping things would end much better for their lost children than it did for the famous Glader of the old days . . .
Old Man Frypan nodded as if he knew what Isaac was thinking.
Jackie rubbed sweat from her forehead. “Kletter told us that when we got to the Godhead we’d?—”
Isaac touched her shoulder. “I know she did. Don’t stress. We’ll find the Godhead and the others.”
Ximena laughed, firing up his inner forge even hotter.
“What’s so funny?” He squinted at Ximena as she stood in front of the setting sun. An outline of soft light surrounded her.
“She thinks we’re stupid, Isaac,” Jackie said. “Just ignore her.”
Ximena huffed. “The Godhead isn’t going to help you . . .” She picked up a rock and pitched it to the side with a grunt, sending the thing all the way over the broken cliff. She mumbled something Isaac couldn’t understand.
“Huh?” he asked.
“The Villas, the Godhead, it all has to burn to the ground . . .” She could’ve been talking about a bonfire on the beach, she said it so nonchalantly.
“Alright . . .” Old Man Frypan sat on a tree stump along the trail they’d been walking. “We’re far enough from the Villa, and this looks like a good place to camp for the night.” He drew a circle in the dirt just in front of him with his walking stick. “Jackie?”
She didn’t waste time before gathering kindling for a fire, probably glad for a distraction. “I’ll find some beach greens and berries.” She completely ignored Ximena.
Ximena definitely noticed. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m just telling you the truth. The Godhead is a big lie they tell themselves and others.” But it was clear that everyone had chosen to ignore her negativity for now.
Jackie dropped a pile of sticks, and Isaac started sparking them.
“No, wait.” Ximena waved her hands over Isaac and Jackie. “A fire will only bring trouble.”
“We’ve fires every night, no trouble.” Isaac blew softly on the kindling to spark a bigger flame. The sticks cracked as they shared the blossoming fire.
“That’s the best sound I’ve heard all day,” Frypan said.
Isaac certainly knew what he meant. There were nights back on the island—after Isaac’s mom and dad had died—that he clung to the last glowing remnants of a fire. He’d stay awake at night, unable to sleep, and watch the small flickers of light fade until the darkest of nights were over. The forge had been Isaac’s saving grace . . . a force to ignite the light back into things by burning them completely. Fire was Isaac’s friend. A way to burn up what wasn’t needed and make things feel new again.
Jackie fed the small flames with dry brush.
Then Ximena kicked dirt on top of it all, putting it out.
“Hey!” Jackie stood up.
“No. I’m not risking anyone from the Villa finding us.” Ximena rested her hand on the knife against her hip, looking crazier than a half-Crank. “I’ll never go back with Carlos or the others. Worst of all Professor Morgan.” She paced a few steps from the trail, toward the edge of the cliff.
“It’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine . . .” Isaac whispered to anyone who cared to hear, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible. Whatever Ximena had been through at the Villa before, it was bad. Very bad. They wouldn’t let anyone take her back. “We’re far enough from the Villa that no one will find us. We’re safe here. They’re too busy worrying about all those machines you destroyed, anyway.” He tried to especially lighten that last part.
Old Man Frypan, unfazed, extended his walking stick to draw another circle, outline for a new fire spot. “No sense in being paranoid . . . we’re here together and they’d have to take all of us if they take you.”
