Chapter 11

"We've lost too many. They were fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. All of them were victims of the politics that shaped our old world, and their demise ignited the spark for change. Mother Nature struck back against humanity with a vengeance. Though our loved ones are gone now, they haven't lost the fight as long as we're still alive. They're dearly missed and remembered by all on this momentous day." President Finley's voice carries through the courtyard.

As the lamentations conclude, I tighten my grip on Jax's hand. An Eternal Flame is perched atop the government building. It dances on the soul stones, swaying in the whistling wind. It burns bright blue, so it'll never be extinguished, even in heavy rain. I study the glowing body of heat as it cackles in the misty dawn. Its light stands together with the two flaming columns of yesteryears, representing the third anniversary of the end of the Nuclear War.

People rush by us, sobbing while they disperse and go their separate ways. "We should go," I say. He nods, and we push against the delirious crowd. Past the tear-streaked faces, Seth sits on the steps leading to the Gene Bank. He's as still as a stone and doesn't look up until he sees us. "She could've been the first one to survive longer than a week, but I shouldn't have hoped for anything."

Seth scrubs a hand over his face, his voice cracking as he speaks. Jax reaches for him, but Seth takes a step back. Biting my lip, I step aside and watch his retreating figure until it blends in with the others.

Jax tugs me along, and we barely make it a few steps when someone rams into me from behind. Esper sobs into my shoulder. Her mussed hair scratches against my cheeks. I feel her tears soaking through my shirt until the fabric sticks uncomfortably to my skin. "Do you remember the last time you came to my house?"

"Your parents had us over for dinner, and we cooked with your sister."

She looks up to the sky and lets out a long breath. "Everyone's dead, Aria. Ma went mad first, and the Sentinels found her washing the floor using Pa's blood. Macy's hair was the sponge."

No, it can't be. The words remain stuck in my throat, suffocating me like a serpent coiling around my neck. Reaching into her bag, Esper pulls out a daisy-patterned cloth. Though the design is faded now, I know it's the same one that her mother used for packing my food. Whenever I came over, her Ma gave me enough to feed a small village. Esper hands me the fabric. "I thought you'd want a keepsake," she murmurs.

As a prickling sensation stings my eyes, Jax and I follow the split asphalt road over its ridges and bumps until we reach the cemetery. The gravestone sections are Clementia, Dignitas, and Firmitas—meaning Mercy, Dignity, and Tenacity. The words are etched deep into tall, white rocks made to look like piles of snow. I run my fingers over their rough surface, remembering that my parent's bodies are somewhere out there, far beyond the reaches of protective dome.

In the days after the blasts, we saw countless corpses piled on each other, their skin raw and charred. Most of them were already unrecognizable. When Proxy's workers tried shifting them to graves, the bodies didn't survive the transport. In the end, they were left outside while the winter consumed them.

That's why the cemetery doesn't hold any remains. Only memories of a life once lived.

We head to the Dignitas section and continue down the first few rows of headstones. Jax lets me have the brown envelope, and I clutch it to my chest for comfort, feeling the weight of just a few pieces of paper.

Purple hyacinths are scattered at my parents' gravestones, so someone must've dumped them in a hurry before running away. They're still fresh, seeing as how the bunches didn't bear the brunt of last night's downpour. Reaching out, I brush my fingers against the delicate petals when someone slaps my hand away. A young girl with round glasses and high pigtails glares at us. "You're not supposed to touch that. It's like taking away the forgiveness."

I pull away, but she doesn't stop glowering at me. The woman behind her smiles sheepishly, guiding the girl behind her before stooping down. "I'm guessing you're the new graduates from the Institution?" She doesn't wait for an answer as she lifts one of the flowers to the sky, letting Eorius bathe the petals in a golden glow. "Usually, this is the kind of flower we use here because we feel like we couldn't protect those who died. It means I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

I nod mutely, and she cracks a wane smile. The woman follows the direction of my gaze, staring between the flowers and me. "Only family members give these to each other, in case you're wondering." Quickly, she dips her head and grabs the girl's hand. They step away from us, moving a few rows up to where they need to be.

Crouching down, I arrange the flowers and distribute the messy bundle between both headstones. Something peeks out from the heap of leaves—it's a tag with a short message tied with a piece of twine around one of the stalks.

People die, and flowers wilt,

but the debt we owe festers guilt.

Biting my lip, I untie the note and stuff it into my pocket. I'll figure this out later, brushing aside the strange feeling at the back of my mind. Jax slinks away to find his father and brother. I've never been one for many words, so I've expressed all I wanted to say in the drawing. Instead, I sit there and imagine my parents next to me as we watch the waning sunset together. It's what we used to do at the old house on the last day of each year.

A gentle breeze caresses my cheeks, and it skims over my skin. Eorius recedes in the sky. The serpentine river reflects its rays as it shrinks over the horizon. Its clear waters seem to stretch as vast as the old world's oceans, forming ribbons of whitecaps across its blue, marbled surface. We sit at the edge of the dock, and the tips of my toes barely tease the rippling tides. Jax drapes his arm across my shoulders and sidles up next to me. "He's coming soon."

Though the envelope won't get far, sending our hearts away like that is liberating.

The shape slowly grows larger until I can make out the distinct silhouette of a skimmer boat. It belongs to a patrol unit deployed on the river to check on the hydropower generators. A middle-aged man captains the vessel. He skirts along the riverbank, squinting when he sees us. His gaze drops to the envelope, and a scowl crosses his face. Quickly, he snatches and throws it on the seat of his cramped compartment. "Where to?"

"North," Jax replies curtly. Pointing at him, the man snorts. "Remember, son. Once I'm done with this, I don't owe you anything." The boat's engine roars to life, and he rides off into the night. I'm about to ask Jax about that, only to find him smirking at me. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow like he knows what I'm thinking.

"What's up with both of you?" I ask.

His grin grows wider. "He's just an old friend, all bark and no bite. Anyway, once you get to know him, you'll know that he's a teddy bear on the inside."

That's ridiculous. Suddenly, Jax pales and glances behind me. I turn to see some people camping by the bushes, laughing and pointing in the distance though there's nothing there. Forcing themselves up, they stumble over their own feet and fall back down again. Empty syringes litter the grass, their needles coated in the magenta-colored Wanderlust.

More people join them, and Seth shows up after giving himself a shot of blue Wanderlust. The liquid still trails down his arm while he ambles toward the delirious group, and it isn't long before he starts chatting with a stranger. Sighing, I turn back to Jax, only to find him staring at a speck in the distance. "Why didn't you take the drug? You can see whatever you want or be anywhere else but here. Maybe you could—"

"Aria, this is the only place I want to be," he gently tugs me towards him and holds my gaze, "because I already see all I want to see." He smiles shyly and looks away, focusing on the deep night sprawled before us.