The Survivors: Body & Blood (book 3)

The California Winters, pt. 2

WHEN WE GOT BACK TO THE HOUSE, BEN AND NOAH WATCHED A MOVIE, SADIE and Everett walked the beach, and Ginny and I sat on the back porch, drinking my dad's scotch.

"Those two are so adorable."

"Which two?" I asked.

"Sadie and Everett. They're practicing living the beach vision."

I took a swallow of scotch. "What are they saying?"

She looked at me sideways. "Shouldn't we give them some privacy?"

"You're listening to them! You can feel what she's feeling when they're fooling around. And you think it's weird for me to want to know what they're saying?"

Ginny laughed because that's what Ginny does. She screws around and makes things funny and keeps everyone around her from being serious by saying things like, "You're right. He's feeling her up right now . . . yes . . ."

"Shut up."

"You wanted to know."

"Not that I didn't," I muttered, sipping again.

"You're no fun anymore," she said.

"Well you're too much fun. Maybe we balance each other out," I said. She stuck her tongue out at me.

Some minutes later, after I had thought of forty-two thousand other things to get the vision of Sadie and Everett out of my mind, I said, "Can I ask you something?" She shrugged. "Do you think because you saw the snow in the war vision, that Dad's vision could be untrue in other ways? Or that others could be wrong, too, like . . . say . . . the beach vision?"

Ginny said, "To clarify, you're asking if I think Sadie and Everett's happy-ever-after is suddenly off the table?"

"It sounds bad when you say it like that."

"Uh, yes, it does sound bad. Exactly how bad depends on why you're asking," she said.

"Forget it," I said.

"Do we need to have a conversation?" she said.

"Forget it, Gin."

"Mark . . ."

"I just wanted to know what you thought. Are all the visions possibly untrue now? There's a lot at stake in the beach vision, Gin," I said defensively. "You know she thinks the water is warm in it. You know they're together and they're married. You know what I know, and I'm just asking if you think it's definitely going to happen that way. That's it."

Ginny smiled wryly. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you like drama."

She laughed angrily. "All the shit we're going through these days, and you think I'm looking for the worst to happen? That beach vision is the only thing that gives her strength to keep loving him in the winter. The idea that one day this will all be over is the only think keeping her alive. So yes, Mark, I do think it will happen. I don't know if it will happen exactly as it does in the vision, but I know they will love each other because they're supposed to. If you're trying to screw with that . . ."

"I'm not trying to do anything!"

"I so want to believe you, but you have to stop giving me reason to doubt! It's clear to everyone that you two have a very, very special relationship. That's no secret, and no one questions that, not even jealous-Everett. But you need to keep it in check. You don't know how to be close to a girl and not sleep with her. Tell me you have the power to be what Sadie needs you for and not do something stupid."

I froze time then. She stopped, hands in the air, face contorted in anger, scotch splashing out of a glass and hanging there.

And I screamed.

Then I unfroze time and said, "I'm not that stupid. You want to know the truth, Ginny? I'm close to her because she's the only one who understands me right now. I'm close to her because you have gotten so lost in this act of pretending you don't feel anything, pretending that you're not affected by all of this that I have to go to her, not you. She can at least admit the fear everyone one of us is feeling, and sometimes I need that! I'm not you. I can't pretend nothing hurts, Ginny. Things hurt. Things are scary. And I value Sadie because she's just like you, except she still feels things. But that doesn't mean I want to cross lines with her, and I thought you knew that. But if you don't understand how much I value Sadie, how much I value her relationship with my brother, then I don't know what to do with you."

She had a chance, in that second, to let my words sink in, to show me that there was something under that shell. But instead, she said, "You're so dramatic these days, Polly." She closed her eyes and letting her head fall back.

"Did you hear a word I said?"

"I heard you going off, but I don't listen to that. Which you know," she said.

"Fine, then hear this. After L.A., we're leaving, me and her and Ben and Noah. And you and Everett aren't coming with us. How's that? You've been kicked off the A-team."

She leapt to her feet. "You can't do that to me," she cried.

"Watch me," I said. And then a real vulnerability showed up in her eyes, the kind I hadn't seen in decades.

"This is all I have," she whispered, her voice trembling. "They all have each other, but this is all I have."

Now I felt terrible. But how could I have known she'd actually react this way? She usually didn't react to anything.

"Ginny, I didn't mean it like that. You aren't off the A-team. We just need you working on other things. Everett is going to acquire more powers, and you need to learn how to use them, and then you need to teach him how to use them. You can do what none of us can do, and that makes you more important than anyone."

She perked up a little at this. "I guess that's true. Still, I don't want to be away from you."

"You'll never be far. Everett's got that teleportation gig now, and you can mirror it. You can come see us whenever you want."

"Are you going to take care of them, Mark? You'll have the craziest three of the lot with you. Can you handle that?"

I smiled reassuringly. "You underestimate me! Me, the wonder warrior kid? I can do anything."

"I shouldn't doubt you," she said. "Look, Polly, I'm sorry. I know I'm wearing armor, even with you, but I have to. It's the only way."

"I know, sugar. It's my favorite thing about you, how badass you are," I said. Then I grabbed her then and threw her on my back, piggy-back style. "Now let's go crash their party."

Ginny laughed happily all the way to the beach, and I knew my job — to keep her happy, to keep her sane — was done.