We have been trying to leave for twenty minutes but our exit has been stalled by an unspeakable force, one so great that even the gods would dare not intervene. A force many have trialed and all have failed, a force to be rivaled by none other in existence.
This mighty force – this formidable force – this herculean force of unprecedented measures ...
... is Lumiere.
"Have you all lost your minds?" He exclaimed heatedly, "This is madness, pure madness I tell you!"
Brandon rubbed at his temples, "I already told you, Lumiere. We absolutely can't."
Lumiere stood at the back of the car shed with his arms crossed abrasively, glaring. He all but stomped his foot with the wail of a fussing toddler, "Yes we can, we have to! This is a matter of life and death!"
Is it, though? Is it really?
Brandon scrubbed his hands down his face and repeated what we have been telling Lumiere since we began packing the van, "It is impossible. We can not take the motorcycles with us."
"Yes we can." Lumiere argued again, "We can just tow them behind the van."
"They are just machines Lumiere, they will be fine here until we are able to come back." Brandon was being surprisingly reasonable and unbelievably patient.
"How can you say that?!" Lumiere sidestepped closer to his motorcycle as though Brandon had suggested sacrificing Lumiere's most prized possession to the realms of Tartarus, "They will get rusty out here! And what about all of this dust?" He looked apologetically at Erie, "And babe, listen, don't take this the wrong way but I think some of your guests have sticky fingers, you know what I mean? As in they would swipe the keys to my baby and I would never see her again."
Three sets of keys dangled from Erie's hooked finger, "I have the keys."
Lumiere wasn't convinced, "Someone might hotwire them."
Erie sashayed to his side and his arms naturally circled around her. She peaked onto her tiptoes, "We all know how much you love her, but you know I would never let anything happen to something so precious to you. Please my love, trust me to keep my word."
Genuine pain crossed him at having to choose between the two girls he adored more than anything, "But I just got her back, the Council had her for so long."
Two days.
The Council had his motorcycle for two days.
We were being held captive and tortured, Dustin sedated, Corinth assaulted, my leg skewered like a kabob on holiday weekend. But of course, Lumiere was most worried about the integrity of his motorcycle.
"I know, and it isn't fair to make you say goodbye again." Erie was sincere but there was a notable amount of jeer in her words to mock the man in her arms. The rest of us detected her ridicule but such scorn was lost on Lumiere who took her words to heart, "Think of it this way, the sooner we finish business with the Council, the sooner you can return to collect her."
Lumiere sighed heavily, indisputably defeated, "I suppose." Another sigh, "You're right."
"Yes, she is." Brandon snapped, "Now get into the car before we leave your ass here. Then you can spend all the time you want with that junky piece of metal."
One would have thought Brandon insulted baby Jesus.
"How dare you!" Lumiere fumed. He went on a tangent of insults – some of which were new to even Dustin's ears by the way Dustin stared in shock – and proceeded to initiate a downright absurd squabble with Brandon, who seemed to be enjoying himself.
While the boys bickered, Erie managed to corral us into the vehicle as one would herd cattle. Lumiere was still arguing when he took the driver's seat and Brandon was still antagonizing him when he settled into the seat behind him. Erie claimed the passenger seat where Lumiere could keep constant vigil over her, and where she could maintain a close enough distance to calm him down. Corinth climbed into the seat beside Brandon, grumbling promises of death upon the two feuding men.
Dustin was grinning to himself as he and I scrambled into the third row of seats at the back of the van. Just as the van started down the winding driveway, I asked him, "Enjoying this nonsense, are we?"
Dustin shrugged lightly, his smile still quite prominent, "You could say that, but I can't help it. This just sounds so normal." He thought for a moment, realizing the era from which this nostalgia was produced, and his cheeks lowered just enough to notice, "From before."
Before Brandon's death.
Before everything went to shit and the misery began to accumulate.
The forest was lively with movement, as dark and foreboding as ever, but tickled with light from an antiquated sun. Beyond those forest trees came the rolling fields, simmering in lazy afternoon heat where rows of golden grass swayed passively in gentle breezes. And beyond that, we came to the road that stretched westward in the direction of our home.
As we were pulling away from the estate, a sudden gust surged through the car and caused Erie's hair to take flight around her. She pressed the tips of her fingers to her mouth then let her kiss be taken by the winds back to her castle, still hidden amongst the trees and awaiting her return.
Brandon called out, "How ever will the Gate manage without its keeper?"
With her eyes still trailed on the fading scenery, Erie laughed from her seat, "You are a fool if you think the Gate needs a keeper to manage. If anything, I need the Gate far more than it will ever need me."
She was gawking out her window with increasingly bright eyes and virtually bouncing in her seat from giddy excitement. I wondered how often she left the estate, if ever. But based on her exuberant reaction to the relatively ordinary landscape passing by, I imagine she didn't get out much. Probably not at all.
The quarrels between Brandon and Lumiere died off shortly after our departure and Brandon was asleep within minutes of reaching the interstate. Erie and Lumiere engaged in constant, low leveled chatter for a majority of the ride, catching up on years worth of separation. He drove with only one hand on the steering wheel, the other was on Erie's leg at all times no matter which position she shifted into during the long ride.
Corinth stared out the window for most of the ride, biting at her nails while her thoughts lacerated new chasms of anxiety in her heart, too restless to be still and too uneasy to be calm. She was excited but afraid, delighted but troubled. She was concerned about Eli and anxious to return to the compound, because she was worried to see what has become of our home and her love.
Beside me, Dustin leaned his back against the window and tucked me into his arms, cradling me softly and playing with my hair while he nestled us deeper into the crease of the seat, "You should rest."
"So should you." Even as I said this, my eyes began to close and my body melted comfortably against him. How serene it was to just be near him and how calming it was to be cushioned by his body, so warm and enveloping.
"I will." He kissed the top of my head and remained there, "You first, Dimples. I'll be right behind you."
He was lying, I knew he was lying. After what happened at the Gate, I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to never sleep again. But after everything we have endured in the past few weeks, I was too exhausted – mentally and physically – to worry about anything at that moment.
I need sleep. Not rest, just sleep.
I need long, uninterrupted sleep.
Soon, the rocking of the car became a sedative and the sound of Dustin's heart beating softly in his chest became a lullaby. Each of his breaths brought me comfort and softened the ache in my bones, dragging me deeper. Before I realized it, my body had gone still and I slipped into a wonderfully peaceful sleep.
No dreams of demons, no visions of blood or death or destruction. No sights of Dustin suffering or personifications of guilt from leaving Toby behind. This sleep was dark and empty, without complication or interference.
Nonetheless while I slept, something inside me was changing. I could feel it the way a mother feels her unborn child twisting and turning inside her. I felt that same twisting and turning, but not from a growing life.
From an ending one.
Mine.
Somewhere deep inside, my organs twitched uncomfortably enough for me to realize even while I slept. Blood thundered in my ears and my heart throbbed harder to match pace with the increased mobility of my circulation.
Something was startling my biological functions, awakening their primal instinct and driving them into a panic.
I was eventually stirred by pinching discomfort centered somewhere in my chest, just enough to call me from my slumber. At first it was dull and deeply rooted, branching in all directions of my veins only as a nuisance, spread so thin that I hardly noticed.
But the longer I lay there, the sharper that pain became, accumulating and metastasizing, attacking my heart with pinpoint needles that tingled until it eventually overwhelmed my subconscious and woke me entirely.
Dustin didn't realize I had wakened and I lay without disturbing him to collect my senses, but a spasm took to my lungs and stole whatever breath I had inhaled. The ash I tasted so clearly in my mouth then billowed hot embers into my arteries. When the heat became too much, my pain drove me back into unconsciousness to spare me from imminent suffering and I slumped against Dustin as my mind dozed off.
However, this slumber was nothing like before. It was hot and riotous, completely unsettling. As if my body could not find composure because something kept poking and prodding, irritating and blistering. I felt myself shiver despite how my veins immersed themselves in lava, and my heart developed a wretched murmur that beat out of proper tune by mere seconds.
Eventually the pain subsided but the fire did not. It bubbled into my gut where it boiled into remission, hibernating until it was ready to mutate again.
My eyes opened, dry from heat and tearing from smoke. Sweat glued my hair and clothing to my skin, constricting against me. Behind me, Dustin was looking out the trunk window, oblivious to how I was deteriorating below him. I tried to sit up, too hot to be held but still recovering from my scalding stupor, which loosened my muscles involuntarily and forced me to lay flaccid in Dustin's lap without strength to control my movements.
My attempt to sit seized Dustin's attention and he smiled down at me, brushing my hair out of my eyes, "Finally back with the living?"
I stiffened, "What?"
He was confused by my adverse reaction, "You were sleeping so deeply ... it was just a joke, sweetheart."
"Oh." Of course, it was just a joke. But he had no idea how close to the truth he had come. I glanced around and saw bright sunshine pouring in through every open window where gusty wind sent refreshing drafts around us, drying my skin from the moisture that dampened my arms and chest from sweat.
"Are you feeling okay? You seem a little uneasy." Dustin asked from above me. His hand pressed over my forehead, comparing the temperature of my skin to that of his own, "And you're burning up."
"I'm fine." My voice was raw.
Burned.
Damn, the Council's curse was moving quickly, faster than I could have imagined.
"Just a bad dream." I lied and quickly changed the subject, "How long have I been sleeping?"
"Since we left the Gate, yesterday evening." Dustin said, "We drove through the night and stopped once for gas and once for food, but you slept through all of that. So you probably got about twelve hours of sleep, I would say."
It felt like minutes, excruciatingly hot minutes.
I swiped a hand across my cheeks then through my hair and I muttered through a small laugh, "Guess I was really tired, huh?"
"It's not surprising, you have been through a lot." Dustin traced lines up and down my arms, mindful of my bruises. He again noticed my angsty demeanor and the residual heat still sweltering in my gaze, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
He said I slept for twelve hours but I was unexplainably exhausted, so I only nodded to save my energy.
Whatever that was, it came on so suddenly. One minute I was fine, the next I was burning. The shift arrived so drastically, without warning or time to prepare. Without reversal or solution.
Without escape.
And if this is only the beginning, I imagine the progression of this disease will become much worse as time without the antidote proceeds.
But Dustin doesn't need to know that. He already has so much to worry about and I don't want my declining health to ultimately be what pushes him over the edge. Even now, he was staring; more concerned than he had been before and skeptical of my assurance.
I reached up to ruffled his hair, "Stop worrying, I'm fine."
He ignored me and dug deeper, "It was really just a bad dream?"
I nodded, "Yep. Simple as that."
His eyes narrowed, "Not like the ones you used to get at the compound, right? The nightmares about that beast thing you told me about?"
"No, nothing like that." At least this wasn't a lie, "I haven't dreamed of that thing in a long time."
"And you are okay? No pain?" He was searching, and he was getting dangerously close to the answer he sought, the same answer I was trying to prevent him from finding, "Marx said the curse would progress quickly and it has already been a few days. Maybe it's starting to set in."
"Nope, no symptoms yet." I answered quickly and sealed my fabrication with a believable smile.
His suspicions dwindled and he took a different approach, "You will tell me when it begins to worsen, right?"
"Of course."
"We won't be able to cure it without whatever is inside the Crypt but we can treat some of the side effects until then." He reasoned, perhaps more for his benefit than my own, "Hopefully we can get into the Crypt as soon as we get back to the compound, then we can start healing you."
He was worrying too much about me and not enough about himself. I craned my neck farther to see him more clearly, "Are you excited? To be going home?"
My health concerns were momentarily forgotten and his entire persona lifted at the thought of returning to his kingdom, "I never thought I would see the compound again. Has it changed much since I went away?"
"A little, but all good things." I delved into the same tale I have told him a hundred times, of how we rebuilt the compound.
Most people would not be interested in the replacement of brick or removal of scorch marks, and most people would not care about renovations or restorations. But Dustin cared. He wanted to know what contractors we used for the construction and which members assisted with remodeling, he wanted to know if we added more buildings and whether we reconstituted the garage, did we replace the carpet with hardwood floors, what color did we paint the walls, did the lineup of past leaders survive the fire, was his room still intact?
He wanted to know about the minuscule details that most people would overlook. Because the compound was not just a place of renovation to him or a location to hang out on the weekends. The rest of us saw the compound as our home, but Dustin thought so much more of that concrete lot and those hallowed halls.
It was the place he grew up, the only place on this planet that he felt right and whole. The only place that made him feel worthy.
Perhaps that is why the compound has felt so empty since Dustin's passing and why the buildings have lost their charm, no matter how many bricks we add or how many motorcycles we polish. The dust has long since settled and the intimidation has fallen to ruins, the graveyard – still spirited with nightly activities of those no longer inhabiting this world – has quieted in the passing weeks. Flowers have wilted, birds have abandoned their songs, and the air around the compound seemed heavier, stifling. All of these changes were inevitable, because Dustin was gone. Taken from us.
As Erie was to the Gate, Dustin was the keeper of the compound; two entities equal in power and sovereignty, and in sacrifice. Erie and Dustin alike have given their lives to protect their sacred land and yet, here they both are.
So far from their homes.
"I know I have already told you this but thank you, Sadie." Dustin said quietly once I managed to stop rambling. I had been so focused on keeping him preoccupied to prevent him from further questioning my decline in health that I didn't realize just how closely he was watching me; or how he realized that some small portion of my strength returned, if only for that moment, while I spoke sweetly of a place we both cherished, "You have done more for the Tribe than what most members have, and I can't thank you enough for that."
"You don't have to thank me for anything."
"On the contrary, I have to thank you for everything. Because," He paused, only for a breath, but it gave his smile a chance to grow and I was stunned by how that smile leaked sunlight into my soul, "You followed through with your promise."
My eyebrows raised, "My promise?"
He nodded, almost sheepishly, with eyes resembling fresh lilacs, "Your promise to help Lumiere and to watch out for my cousin." He slipped his fingers under my chin to direct my face towards his, "And your promise to take care of the Tribe."
Those words sounded familiar ... but I couldn't quite place them.
Then I realized, "You ... you remember?"
His eyes flickered around the car to gauge our privacy. Brandon and Corinth were preoccupied with their own thoughts, Lumiere and Erie had initiated yet another conversation amongst themselves that sounded absurd to the outside ear but made perfect sense to themselves. When he decided progression was appropriate, Dustin lowered his voice and brought his head towards mine to prevent his confession from traveling.
"I remember, Sadie." He whispered, "I remember dying."
Those three words pierced my heart with the affliction and velocity of a bullet.
How disgustingly ironic.
"What exactly do you remember?" I asked silently.
"I remember pain, so much pain. I have never experienced anything as painful as that." His voice didn't surpass a whisper but somehow it carried a surreal amount of breathless anguish that seemed to scream at me, "I was cold and could hardly move, and in the end, it felt like falling asleep. And I was scared but, I also wasn't." He thought back through that experience, once confused but now enlightened, "Because of you, I think."
My mouth fell open again and he laughed a second time at my shock, "Me?"
"You." He said simply. Without looking down, his hands came to rest over where mine were gripping his arm and he shook his head slowly while recalling his final moments, "I remember thinking that I should be scared, I should have been fucking terrified. But I wasn't." His fingers folded around my own, "Because you were there. You were leaning over me and you were crying but damn, you were gorgeous." One side of his lips climbed higher, "I remember that most of all, they way your hair shined under those stars."
He remembers the stars.
My stars.
"Well I'm glad you weren't scared but that is the closest I have ever come to having a heart attack." I exclaimed, still soaring high from his story and drunk on his love, but fearful of what could have been, "Don't ever make me go through that again, Dustin. I mean it."
"I wasn't scared until I woke up." His breath became shaky and he pulled me closer out of habit, "The last thing I remember before my eyes closed was you sitting over me but when I woke up, I was alone. For the first few days, I honestly thought I dreamt everything - meeting you in the alley, kidnapping you, holding you, kissing you," A deeper sigh, one that hurt both of us to hear, "Loving you." His eyes fluttered, "And that scared me, more than you will ever know."
If only I could hold him tighter, "Trust me, I know."
"Oddly enough, dying was the easy part. Coming back to life was more troubling." He sounded different and when I peered up at him, I discovered that his eyes were clouded, "After I died ..." He licked his lips, nervously, " ... you stayed."
What else did he expect me to do, "Of course I stayed."
"You didn't have to."
"You're right, I didn't have to." I agreed and reached up to kiss him, softly. Only long enough for him to taste my sincerity, "I stayed because I wanted to."
He kept me near and hummed against me, "There was a time when you would have ran if you had the chance."
"The situation is different, I am different. The compound is my home now, too." I brushed away my kiss from his lips with my thumb but maintained touch to prevent him from speaking. I knew what he would say next because I know how Dustin's mind works when it comes to my wellbeing and future. He is going to tell me I am better off without the Tribe and while that may be true, it is not what I want, "We are going home, Dustin. Both of us."
His eyes found mine, "Don't ever think you can't leave, you are not my prisoner anymore. The option to leave is always available if you ever change your mind. I want you to know that."
I never would have thought his permission to leave would feel so fulfilling.
When he first kidnapped me, it wasn't my choice. When he forced me to stay, it wasn't my choice. When he drugged me and sent me back home, it wasn't my choice. When he refused to take me back to the compound, it wasn't my choice. When he decided to sacrifice himself and leave me behind, it wasn't my choice.
But the decision to stay and rebuild the Tribe was my choice. It was my choice. I didn't have to and I wasn't being forced to. If I told Lumiere and the others that I wanted to leave, they would have let me walk away. They would have been heartbroken, I would have been heartbroken, but they would not have forced me to stay.
And now, Dustin is offering me that same liberty. Whether it be because of what happened at the Gate or because of what he knew awaited us once the Council acquired their cure, Dustin did not want me to feel obligated to him or the Tribe. He wanted me to have an out if I needed one, he wanted me to have the freedom of making my own choice.
That alone shows his growth.
And his love.
"I won't. Not now, not ever. I hate to break it to you but you are stuck with me." I said and added with a smirk of my own, "So you better figure out a way to make your closet bigger because there isn't nearly enough room for your clothes and mine."
A wholesome smile ordained his lips and he pecked at my cheek affectionately, over and over, speaking between his kisses even though his lips never lifted from my skin, "Thank you for staying, Dimples."
This too felt familiar, from a lifetime ago, and a response was spoken before I realized I have said it before, "I'm not going anywhere, Dustin King." It was a promise but not one either of us needed to hear. We knew it was true whether I spoke it aloud or not.
He kissed me again, "Thank you for staying with me, through all of this." Yet another kiss, "Thank you for rebuilding my home, our home." Another one, longer than the prior, this time for no reason other than wanting to, "I love you, Sadie. I really do."
"I love you too." I spoke through a laugh when his kisses dipped onto my neck and he tickled at my sides.
From the front, I caught Lumiere's gaze in the rearview mirror at the sound of my laughter. He watched us and he smiled, the way he used to before Dustin died. I realized it has been such a very long time since I have seen Lumiere look so unquestionably cheerful and whole and unbothered; so blissfully unbroken and unburdened, mended, healed.
He was happy because we were happy.
And for Lumiere, that is as good as life can get.
"We are close." He called from the front, "Not much farther."
Soon after, recognizable mountains breached the horizon and the sight of those hills, draped in a periwinkle haze from distance, in their constant guard of the valley, had us at the edge of our seats in anticipation. Because those mountains meant we were home.
Finally.
We are home.
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My apologies for the filler chapter! This chapter was originally 22 pages but I felt as though it would be better as separate chapters so guess what?!? I will actually be posting ON TIME next week! Crazy, I know lol
I apologize for the ridiculously late update, school has quite literally been hell on earth. I am so sorry for any inconveniences or frustrations!
P.S. still working on the playlist! I haven't forgotten ;)
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Thanks again, my darlings!
xoxo