Colton~~
The storm will be here soon. The clouds darken over the scene of the crash, a warning to quickly find whatever clues Erik left behind.
A Veil approaches us as we walk from my parked car. I can't recall his name, but I've seen him speaking with my brother a few times in the past. He bows to us, and when he rises, I catch his name embroidered on his uniform. Rollo.
"Beta. Zeta. The Preeminence was here only a few hours ago. I'm afraid you've missed him."
"We know," I drawl. "He sent us to search the area."
"Oh." He manages to straighten his already stretched back. "Yes, of course. So far there's been no trace of them in the town. I'm sure with your help something will be discovered soon." Rollo is clearly nervous—as he should be. But asinine flattery is useful to no one.
"Is there a bus station in the town?" Seong-ho asks.
"It's located inside of a restaurant, but when we checked, there was nothing to be found. There is no trace of them."
Seong-ho brushes out the sleeve of his jacket, not looking at the Veil. "Security cameras?"
The Veil's brown eyes flick between us. "Regrettably, this town is . . . stuck in the past. There are no security cameras at the bus stop. The few that are to be found in the town have been searched."
A place Erik can be invisible in? A dream scenario for him. My cousin chose well. And that's exactly it. He chose this. All of it. I don't believe Erik didn't plan every single piece of this opera.
"Have any buses left today?" I ask.
"One. Mr. Salvatore himself checked it. I'm afraid they weren't on it, Beta." Sweat beads on his forehead. It's almost humorous how terrified he is to tell us bad news. "I assume, the Preeminence told you of the note the Tresais left."
No, but please do tell. "He briefly mentioned it but said someone could fill us in when we arrived."
At this, Rollo looks deeply uncomfortable, his mouth turning down in a frown and his weight shifting between his legs. "The Tresais pushed his car over the edge with the girl inside."
Even though my face doesn't show it, his news surprises me, and I'm not sure what to think of it—how to process it. Whether or not to believe it. I know Erik is prone to drastic measures. I know he's killed. He claims he killed Molly. Why would Erik take the blame for the death of the girl he loved if he didn't do it? That's the question we asked ourselves time and time again—when Erik told us he did it, when he didn't come home, when we had to move to our estate in West Virginia so he would.
"How did the Preeminence look after he read the letter?" I ask.
"Beta?"
"Yes?"
"I don't think it's my place to make assumptions about the Preeminence. I wouldn't want to presume anything."
"Tell me."
"He . . . he seemed shaken, Beta."
Quick and sudden, a burst of sadness for my brother whisks through me. But like it came, it's gone in the same manner.
I nod to Seong-ho and say to the Veil, "We will let you know if we discover anything."
Seong-ho and I return to my car. Once the doors are shut, he asks, "Do you think he actually killed her?"
I put the car in drive and maneuver with care through the barriers and Veil guards. "I don't doubt he would, but I don't know if he did. No matter what he says, Iris is invaluable to him." A Veil motions for me to keep coming forward as he directs me through the final barricade. "I don't think he could throw her away."
Seong-ho runs a hand through his brown hair. "I still can't believe the very same girl I knew years ago is the one we're talking about."
"Were you two close?" I hedge, entirely unsure how to ask him about his past with her. Since the moment I found out they had even shared a conversation before yesterday, I've wished to ask him about it. I assume the relationship was an adversary one, but Iris reacted as if he was a close friend who betrayed her. Seong-ho drove from the Estate to Tennessee and for the entirety of the trip it was eating at me to ask. The only reason I could come up with for why I didn't was because I was scared—am scared by the chance that maybe it was a good deal more than friendly.
Seong-ho taps his finger against the black plastic button for opening his window. "I suppose you could say that. I worked with her a lot—with training that is."
"You trained the rebels?" Restricted no more by the barricades, I'm free to push past the speed limit, winding my car around the mountain's bends.
"It was part of the charade. And besides for the most part it was only her who I focused on."
"Why her?" I can't fathom willingly spending time with her.
"I didn't think it would matter. She'd be dead before twenty. And I guess I took pity on her. The dynamic between her and the other kids was . . . strained because of her early Expiration Date. I pushed her harder than any of them."
"You tried to provoke her?"
"It wasn't like I had any of you around to provoke. But I guess I wanted to see her succeed."
"At what?"
"Being the best?"
I focus on the road, making sure I slow down enough, turn the wheel enough for the curve.
When we were little, Seong-ho and I were inseparable. We'd torment Gwen, play pranks on Jonas, and we'd always be on the same team whenever there would be some sort of capture-the-flag-like game in the fields surrounding our estate in Wyoming.
Then Seong-ho's father started priming him to infiltrate an orphanages to discover if they were training rebels. He left on his first assignment when he was eight-years-old. I suppose it only makes sense we lost what we had. With him gone, I had to deal with Eli on my own. A year before Seong-ho left for his first orphanage, Eli, about a year and a half younger than I, was hiding with me in a cabinet and had not mastered the anxious, jittery feeling that comes with hiding and soiled himself—on my foot.
"Do you really think Erik killed Molly?" Seong-ho asks as we pass by a rotting blue sign announcing we're entering the town.
"Haven't we exhausted this conversation by now?"
He doesn't answer.
"If Erik wanted us to believe he killed Molly, then I'm going to believe him." Even if I have my doubts.
"But are you going to believe him about Iris?"
"He has something to gain by us believing Iris is dead. There was no reason for him to lie about Molly."
The town is old—not beautiful, awe-inspiring old, but tacky old. Each one-story building looks like it was built in the 70s and hasn't been painted since.
"But he blames us for her death too."
"Erik blames us for everything." My voice has more emotion in it than I mean for there to be. "It means nothing."
Tracking down the only inn in town isn't hard when the road sign for it says the same words. When the Veil questioned the townspeople, they wouldn't have been allowed to show pictures of Erik. Only Iris. Erik would assume as much. Because of that he would be more cautious to hide Iris than himself.
I park the car in the lot for the inn, neither of us saying a word, and we head inside the lobby that's cramped yet the owner still felt they could lend space to stuffed animals in glass cases that mimic their habitats. The animals could have been stuffed back in the 70s as well for how faded and dusty they are.
The young girl behind the desk looks as if she fainted and awoke to find herself at the gates of Hell. She curtsies, her hands gripping the yellow-brown wood of the desk. "Beta." Her mouth closes . . . and opens. She's no longer looking at me. Instead, her gaze is directed toward Seong-ho. Oh. Oh, this is beautiful. "I'm . . . I'm so sorry, but . . . I don't—I'm not aware—"
"This is the Zeta," I say.
She blanches. "I'm so sorry, Zeta. I didn't know—"
Seong-ho holds up his hand silencing her. "Just stop talking."
I know it reflects horribly on us that a civilian didn't recognize the Zeta, but it makes sense. He was hidden too well. He didn't come into the public eye until he became Zeta less than a month ago and even then we haven't released a press release with his photo yet. We've been waiting until we could take official photos together as a group. That doesn't mean there aren't photos of him floating around somewhere.
I pull out my phone and pull up a picture of Erik. To succeed, sometimes rules have to be broken. "Have you seen a man who looks like this?"
"That's—that's the Tresais."
"At least you can recognize him," Seong-ho drawls. I'm going to be hearing about this in the car.
"Yes, very good," I say. "There's a man that we're trying to track down who's claiming to be the Tresais. Understandably, we need to find him as soon as possible."
She chews on her lip, staring at the picture. "I think I saw him."
"Where?" Seong-ho asks.
"The bus stop is in front of this restaurant around the corner—Maddie's Table—I was eating there this morning, and when the bus was boarding I was looking out the window—we don't get many visitors so I always like to see what the bus is bringing and taking. This man, he had a hood on, but right before he got on the bus, I got a glimpse of his face. Only briefly and I didn't know who he was, but I thought he looked familiar."
Seong-ho and I don't trade looks, but I feel a tug between us as if we're both thinking the same thing. If she really saw Erik, and Brydan checked the bus . . . that would mean Brydan's a traitor.
I pull up a picture of Iris. "And her?"
She purses her lips. "I didn't see her."
I slip my phone back inside my jacket. It doesn't mean she's dead, but rather my theory about Erik hiding her more than himself is holding true. "Do you know where that bus was going?"
She flips through some papers on her desk before laying one down in front of me. "Here's the bus schedule. This is the one the man boarded." She points to the third row. I read over each of the stops, the last of which is Colorado Springs. Arthur. That's where Erik will be headed.
I take the bus list and turn away. Seong-ho follows me out the door.
"Brydan let Erik go?"
"Yes." I've never had anything against Brydan. He was my older brother's best friend; he was always around. That doesn't mean that he was like another brother to me. No, not when I lived with as many family members as I did. He and Jonas have been inseparable for as long as I can remember. When Seong-ho and I didn't stand the test of time, Brydan and Jonas did. But now he's betrayed my brother, and I'm sure my brother has no idea.
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