Page 65 of The Infinite Glade
“Thanks for clearing that up,” Ximena responded, letting loose another grin. A tiny one.
Isaac thought of all the times that he, Trish, and Sadina did the dumbest antics they could think of, just to make each other laugh. Farting, burping, mooning, the whole lot. But what he’d miss the most were the sweet things Sadina did for Isaac. The things only she noticed about him. The way she’d saved him after his family died.
“Whenever Sadina thought I needed a hug, but thought it might embarrass me, she’d grab my hand. Just really quick with a little squeeze.”
“She cared about you, lots and lots,” Frypan agreed.
“And it seems like such a stupid thing to say, but when the world drained all the life out of me—you know, my family, the flood—she found a way to make life start flowing back into me.” He felt like smiling and crying at the same time. “If she were here, right now, she’d tell me to quit being so sappy.” He let out a slight approximation of a laugh. “And if Trish were alive, she’d say life is just a little wonky-bonky. So stupid.” He looked down at the driftwood necklace they’d taken from Trish’s body before wrapping her up.
“There’s always more to say.” Frypan patted Isaac on the back. “I’m glad you told us all that.
“Do you still . . .” Isaac wasn’t sure if the question would upset Frypan or not, but he needed to know. “Do you still think WICKED is good? Orgood enough, as you put it?”
The old man leaned back and exhaled. “I guess I don’t know what I don’t know.” He squinted in the light of the rising sun. “I’ve seen people be evil and good in the very same life. Sometimes people change from one extreme to the other, but sometimes they’re just . . .both, at the same time.”
Isaac had too many thoughts at once, but the biggest question he needed an answer to was how the hellAnnie Klettergot to be in charge of something so important like these Sequencer people.
“Hey Cian,” he shouted up to the pilot seat. “How did Kletter get the coordinates to the Sequencers?”
The man answered without looking over his shoulder. “Only those who were a part of the foundation of WICKED knew the exact location, and each of them chose a successor to their secret, generation after generation. So she must be descended from someone all fancy and special-like.”
Isaac looked out the window to see if they were still over the ocean, but land spanned out below them. So much more land than he had ever seen before—all trees and rocky hills and ravines, snow and ice and lakes and streams. Freshly lit and beautiful from the sun, well above the horizon now.
“How did all of this stay a secret for so long?” Ximena asked Cian.
“It didn’t, not very well. Bits and pieces are heard here and there and those who hear it create their own story to fill in the blanks.”
“Oh.” Ximena looked like she had received some of those truths. “Like the Godhead in Alaska?”
Cian looked over his shoulder this time and nodded. “Exactly. The Godhead, the Nation of Remnants, everyone thinkstheyhave the full story of what the Evolution truly means. But it’s been a century plagued with lies.”
“Even the Sequencers are wrong about their truth,” Erros scoffed.
But how could they be wrong about their own history?Isaac thought.
“And you’re going to be the one to tell them that?” Cian snapped at his brother.
“Hell, no.” Erros ended the conversation right there.
They flew over some cliffs that reminded Isaac of Stone Point back home, miles and miles of black rock jutting up from the earth. The same cliffs he’d stood atop when he first saw theMaze Cutterfloating toward shore. Maybe it was his own lame version of second-sight, but Isaac had a weird feeling looking down at those cliffs. He looked at Ximena but she didn’t seem scared or deep in thought.
“Oh wow . . .” Frypan whispered as looked out the window of the now-descending Berg. “Just beautiful. Stunning.”
As they lowered in altitude, the details of the cliffs became sharper, just like the rocks. The Berg turned just slightly to the right, readying itself to land, the gear already extended below. They went over a small rise in the land, revealing a large body of water nestled against the cliffs on the other side.
“There it is. The Lake of Promise,” Cian said as he continued the Berg’s descent, heading for a clearing by the water.
Isaac stared at the so-calledLake of Promise, more than a bit surprised that someone would choose such a name for what he saw below him.
The lake was filled with blood.
Soldiers are trained to deliver pain. Strike with precision. And torture with pleasure.
Minho’s thoughts began to float above his body. He no longer physically felt any of the traitorous blows he deserved. Instead, he became a witness to his own death. Sure, he could still feel the pressure of the punches—especially the ones that pushed his body further into the very ground the Maze was built upon. But he didn’t feel any new pain. The stabbing ache in his ribs and the burning behind his eyes started to fade away.This must be what it’s like just before death, the Orphan thought.
“Leave it,” the Junior Grief Bearer commanded. “Save him for tonight.”
Minho sensed impatience from the soldiers standing around him, and maybe some of his own disappointment. One more punch might have freed him from life.
