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.We were together when we wererecruited at the ages of seven and nine, butso were two other neighborhood boyswho had been good friends of ours.Wehad been playing ball in the field behindthe schoolyard, like we did everySaturday afternoon, when the men came.Niklas and I did not know we werebrothers at the time.But we were the bestof friends.Inseparable like brothersshould be.So perhaps deep down a partof us knew all along.It wasn t until four years later,after my mother was killed while on amission that we found out the truth.Niklas mother told us in secret.It has been kept a secret eversince. What have you done, Victor?What were you thinking? Where is yourhead?Niklas white-knuckles thesteering wheel.He turns to look at meevery few moments, waiting for me togive him an answer that I cannot give.Quietly, I bite back the painsearing through my hip.I look over at Niklas. You must tell Vonnegut that theyshot first, I say and I see the argumentcloud his features instantly. Tell him thatI had no choice. Victor. He shakes his head andthen hits the steering wheel with the palmof his hand. What has happened to you?He grits his teeth, holding back the kind ofwords he wants to say but knows wouldbe better left unsaid.He hits the steering wheel again. I have always done everythingyou have ever asked me to do.Not oncehave I refused you.Rarely do I questionyou.But I don t because I trust you as Ishould. He inhales a sharp breath and Inotice his eyes stray toward the rearviewmirror.And then he looks back at me. But this is different.You re riskingeverything: your place in the Order, yourrelationship with Vonnegut, your life, mylife. He slashes the air between us withhis hand. All for that girl. I am doing nothing of the sort. Then what would you call it?he snaps. If not for her, then for what?Make me understand, Victor!He swerves into the opposite laneof the highway to make it around a slow-moving car. And why have you told her yourname? You ve become unstable.Theyeliminate the unstable ones, Victor, youknow this.He forces his eyes back on theroad having hit his own nerve.His motherwas one of the  unstable ones. I will not let anything happen toyou because of me, I say. If you feel youmust tell Vonnegut the truth, I willunderstand.I will not hold that againstyou.He shakes his head dejectedly. No.As I have always done, I will tellhim whatever you need me to tell him.He pauses and grips the steeringwheel with both hands, moving the palmof one hand over the ridges of the leatheras if to keep his hand from hittingsomething else. I hope that one day you will tellme the truth, he adds, not looking at me. About what s happening to you.Aboutwhat really happened in Budapest.And ifthat has anything to do with what you redoing now. There is nothing to tell, I say. Dammit! I am not Vonnegut! No, you are Niklas, the onlyperson in this world whom I trust. I pointout ahead. Drop us off there.I ll need toget a new car.Despite wanting nothing morethan to shout at me all day until I tell himsomething satisfying, Niklas drops italtogether.Discipline.Something he willnever have.We pull through the front gate of acar dealership. Around to the side, I say. Waitfor me there.Without objection, Niklas does asI say and parks on the side of the buildingnext to another customer vehicle.Before I get out, I glance backonce at the girl, Sarai.She s motionlessand lost.Her eyes are open, but whateverit is that she s staring at somehow I knowshe doesn t really see.I want her to lookupon me, just for a moment.But she neverdoes and I walk away.SaraiI feel like I should be like Cordelia, sittingnext to me wide awake yet unaware of itherself.I know it will take her months oftherapy to overcome what she s gonethrough.I know because I went through thesame thing after I watched my mother die.The only way I m anything likepoor Cordelia is that I can t find the willto speak.I just sit here, letting the timepass and being completely incoherent to it,numb to its efforts to cause me discomfort.Fifteen minutes could be two hours and Itruly wouldn t know the difference.Unlike Cordelia, I m aware ofeverything around me.I just don t care.Sometime later, Victor emergesfrom the building and opens my door onthe SUV.He just looks at me for a momentas if waiting for something, I guess for meto get out.I look over at him, letting my headfall sideways against the seat. You didn thave to leave her there. Yes I did, he says and takes myhand. She ll be found soon, if she hasn talready.You have my word.I take Victor s hand, but glanceover at Cordelia before I get out. What about her?Victor turns his gaze on Niklas inthe driver s seat. No long stops in-between, heinstructs. Meet Guzmán at the waypointwe discussed.The money for his daughter.Inform him of the turn of events and thatwe could not control Javier s absence, butthe job will be done. Whatever you say, Victor,Niklas agrees flatly, his words tinged withbitterness and disappointment.Victor tugs on my hand and I getout of the SUV.As we are walking away, Niklasstops us: Where will you go? he asks,hanging partially out the window with hisarm resting on the door. For now, Victor says,  Tucson.Await my contact for the rest.Niklas drives away.As Victor walks alongside metoward a shiny new dark gray car, I fallback behind him for a moment. Why are we going to Tucson?He stops mid-stride and turnsaround to face me. I m taking you home.CHAPTERFIFTEENWhen I see  home on the horizon manyminutes later, it doesn t affect me the waythat I always dreamed it would.I don teven lift my head from the passenger sside window to look at it as we roll by.Because I know there s nothing for mehere.Instead of gazing out at the city, Iwatch the black asphalt move rapidly aswe coast over it. Where do you live? Victorasks.Finally, I lift my head and turn toface him. Why are you doing this?Victor sighs and puts his eyesback on the road. Because I think you ve seenenough.He pulls the car into a roadsideconvenience store parking lot and puts itinto Park.It s starting to get dark outside. You need to tell me where totake you, he says and I detect the faintesthint of discomfort in his face. Your father? he urges when Idon t answer.Absently, I shake my head. Myfather could be one of a hundred men inTucson.I never knew him. A grandmother? An aunt? Adistant cousin? Where would you like togo?I quite literally have no family.Since I don t know my father, I don tknow any of my family on his side.I neverhad any siblings; my mother got her tubestied after she had me.My grandparentsboth died when I was a teenager.My aunt,Jill, lives somewhere in France becauseshe could afford to move there and shedisowned my mom when I was thirteen-years-old [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]