vanished

Well, hello. Here's a rather long one, you'll have to forgive me. There is a little story between the last episode and this next piece. Mostly, they all sit together and share a meal. Marc stares into space, Dakota pines, and the twins agree to join them on their quest. As they set out, Dakota learns that Anna can help her find the others. The search is a little like a hunt. But I’m skipping all that, and getting to the journey. After all, I promised you action. : )

As we approached, we saw a man sitting in the front yard, leaning easily up against a tree. He whistled a happy tune, tapping his toe in the air. He was carving something in his hand, brown and gold catching the light through the branches. He had a cowboy hat resting on his short reddish hair, the brim tipped down over his face. Stubble shadowed his square jaw, his big hands working with precision. His bare arms were permanently tanned from many days out in the sun. I felt the air around him. Sharp and steely, but keen and careful. There was a stillness about it, a sort of peace. He certainly meant us no harm. He didn't even look up as our footsteps met the sidewalk ten feet away from where he was resting, his eyes on the project in his rough hands.
“Howdy folks,” he said cheerfully. His voice was deep and strong, his breathing smooth.
He tilted his head, the shadow from the brim of his hat disappearing from his face. He was handsome, younger than I might have guessed. Maybe in his thirties. His face was untroubled, warm and friendly. His eyes were a brilliant green, but strange. Gold and jade, with flecks of honey like the sun shining through a shallow pool. They seemed to take in the light from all around us, reflecting it back like glass. He smiled easily. It was a smile that made you want to take a comfortable breath. He got to his feet, stamping his boots to dust himself off. He looked toward Haylee and Anna and I, his eyes sparkling. He lifted his hat.
“Evenin', ladies. Lovely to make your acquaintance. Ya'll have to remind me of your names, I've never been much for rememberin' my dreams.” He smiled again, I found myself mirroring the gesture, as odd as it felt on my face.
“Dakota,” I said. He raised an eyebrow. “Er, Demeter.” He nodded.
“Haylee,” she curtsied sweetly. “Hestia.”
“Anna,” she nodded. “Artemis.” He took his hat off.
“'N I'm Hector,” he said with a grin. “Haphaestus. God of crafting, for those of you not up to standards on your Greek mythology.” He chuckled, turning his eyes on the boys.
“Adam,” he smiled. “Apollo.”
“Peter,” he nodded. “Poseidon.” Marc took a step forward. Hector held up his hand.
“I know who you are, Marc,” he said, his smile brightening. He held up the brown shape he had been working on, handing it over. “There ya' go, Hermes. Hope they fit. Didn't know your size an' all that.”
Marc took the shape carefully into his hands, his eyes wide. They were soft brown shoes, laced neatly up the front. Resting at the ankle of each was a pair of bright golden wings. They sat still in the dusk light, glittering in the sun. The shoes looked professionally made, perfectly crafted. They would fit like a glove, I knew just looking at them. They were beautiful.
“Thank you,” Marc breathed, staring at the shoes.
“That'll help us get up that dang old mountain. Big bastard. 'Scuse my language, ladies, but ya'll know it's true.” He chuckled.

The next bit is a lot of talking, mostly about how to use the shoes. It turns out, Hector explains, that they serve as a sort of amplifier for what Marc could already do. Essentially, if Marc can imagine a place (really see it in his mind) he can vanish to it. Like teleporting. The important part comes next. Hector tells Marc that he can take anyone with him. If he’s touching them the way he vanishes things, and sees the place, he can go. He can go anywhere.

A door slammed open across the room. Marc appeared again, his breathing rapid. I looked to his face, anxious to catch another of his rare smiles. Though the image made my heart throb, I pined after his happiness. I could almost feel whole if he was smiling. But when his gaze met mine, my stomach dropped. His eyes were wide, his jaw clenched. Big tears streamed down his face. He pushed off from the door frame and raced toward me. He caught my shoulders and pulled me into his arms, hugging me fiercely. My head spun and my heart raced, my pulse beating against his. He pulled his hands into my hair, his lips touching my cheek, breathing my name into my ear.
“Dakota,” he choked. “Forgive me. Please forgive me.”
“I... Marc...”
I couldn't catch my breath. I wanted to shove him away, to leave him like he left me. But all I could feel was his strong arms around me, his happy heartbeat, his breath against my skin.
“Don't you see?” He was still whispering, searching my face. “I can bring you back. If Haden took you, I could follow. I could bypass the river, vanish us both out. I wouldn't have to take you through. I can protect you. All of you. I can keep you safe.” He held me against his chest, breathing deeply to calm his sobs.
My heart was cold, heavy and frozen. It wasn't fair of him to fake affection in his excitement. He left. He was already gone. Now he could just get away faster. I bit my lip but the tears flowed down my face. I took a step back. It was physical pain to break the embrace. It was colder where our skin didn't touch. Everything was ice. He looked at my face, confused by my stony expression. I took a shallow breath.
“I'm so happy for you,” I whispered. The sound was shaky.
“Dakota,” he breathed, his face confused. He reached out for me. I took a quick step back, shaking my head.
“Don't.” My voice was barely a whisper. The tears fell without pausing. “You don't have to.”
Adam gasped. I whirled in his direction as the air changed. His normal breathing felt like a song against the room, now it was screeching to a stop. His breath ground against my skin, pulsing with fear. He had one hand raised out in front of him, his eyes held shut. His sister was calling his name, shaking his arm, but I couldn't hear her. All I could hear was the roar of his racing heart, the screaming of his terrified breath. He opened his eyes, looking at nothing. A thin rim of fire seemed to blaze like the sun around his gray irises. “Run,” he breathed.
The glass blew in from every window in the house. Everyone ducked, Peter throwing his arms over Haylee's head. The big picture window in the living room looked out over the yard and the empty street. Darkness had fallen on the sidewalk in front of the house. I stared through the open space, my lungs closed. The street was filled with shadows. I had never seen so many, never imagined. The shadow people lined every inch of the road, rolling up onto the sidewalk like waves, their red eyes pulsing in the dark. The low moon illuminated their shivering forms, rolling forward toward the house. Someone was screaming.
“Everybody grab on to Marc!” Hector roared.
I hadn't noticed how loud it was until Hector had to roar over the sound. The shadow people were rumbling, growling in anticipation. The sound was like a constant boom of thunder, shaking everything. Peter grabbed an arm, holding Haylee against Marc's side. Anna and Adam went behind and wrapped their arms around his middle. Hector bent low and wrapped a thick brown hand around Marc's ankle. The air moved behind me, back in the street. I turned toward the sensation.
The shadows were parting like a sea. A little light was making its way through the center of the darkness, moving toward the house. As it got to the sidewalk, I realized what it was. It wasn't a light, but a full head of curly blond hair. Haden stepping into the yard, locking eyes with me. He grinned, raising a hand in greeting. Fear covered my skin.
I thought about things that were easy. The wind in the trees, the blooming of flowers, the unchanging direction of streams. I thought about things that were never left behind. I thought about death.
Marc held a hand out to me. I looked back at Haden, making his way easily up the grass, the shadows trailing behind him. I turned back to Marc. He stretched his arm toward me, his palm up. I touched my skin to his hand. An image filled my mind. I floated weightlessly on a fog river. Nothing hurt. Nothing was heavy. My eyes were closed, my body limp. I felt whole and happy and peaceful. It was easy. I pulled my hand back. I had one image of Marc's face, shocked and hurt. I heard Adam screaming. Marc filled his lungs to yell my name, reaching out to grab me. And then they disappeared. Everything was still.
“Dakota,” Haden said cheerfully from the open front window. His caramel eyes were warm, his face bright. “It's lovely to see you again.”

Well, Haden and Dakota have a chat. I don’t want to include the whole thing here, though it is pretty significant. But it is also fifteen pages long, and I’d rather not make you suffer through it. Instead, I will give you the highlights. The bottom line is: Haden is convincing Dakota that Marc has fooled them all.

“You tried to take me,” I choked. Unbelievably, a tear rolled down Haden’s cheek.
“I thought that if I could just show you. Just take you there, to the underworld, that you would change your mind. It was foolish, I know. But I wasn't thinking clearly. I thought that if you could just see it, see how I fit there, you'd know the truth. I would have brought you back if you refused. If you still wouldn't... have me. But I hoped that once you saw who I really was, once you saw my meadow, you'd know how safe you could be. How much I have loved you.”
“What?” I wasn't sure if he could even hear me, the breath still wasn't coming.
“I love you, Dakota. Endlessly. I've dreamt of you every day of this new life. When I saw you in the woods, I could hardly believe it. But I couldn't tell you there, in front of everyone, knowing how dangerous it would be.”
“Dangerous?”
“With him there. I can't forgive myself for leaving you alone with him. It's a miracle he didn't hurt any of you. He's so volatile.”
“He isn't,” I breathed.
“He is, Dakota. He's sick. He killed our mother.”
“It was an accident.”
“God! I could drown in that word, 'accident'! He's sick. Do you understand? My mother wouldn't buy him a video game, while they were out shopping. When they were back in the car and she turned out onto the highway, he covered her eyes. A woman driving next to them tried honking, to frighten him. But he held on, smiling. She was killed in the crash, because she wasn't wearing her seatbelt. My mother never forgot her seatbelt. But he was unharmed. He was twelve, Dakota. They put him away. They couldn't keep him, because he was so young. They medicated him and let him out. He dropped out of school when he was sixteen, high on more drugs than I can bare to believe. Later, he told me that he dropped out because he got some girl pregnant. She disappeared.”
“Stop.”
“No, Dakota, listen to me! You have to know! After he got arrested for possession he showed up in New York, said Dad wouldn't take him back. He said he was clean, said he wanted a new life. What could I do? He's always been that way, perfectly charming. He begged me. I couldn't turn him away, I believed him. Everyone does. And after everything, I loved my brother. I would have died for him. So I let him stay. I even threw him a birthday party.” Haden scoffed, his eyes flashing with anger. It felt like the gears in my mind were screaming, grinding against each other.
“No.” I shook my head again, unaware of the action.
“Do you see, Dakota? He's sick. He'll never get better. Only worse. He lies like it's his nature, he believes what he's saying. You have to believe me. Nothing he has told you is true.”
“He... he said he loved me.” It had been my fear all along that it couldn't be true.
“No. I love you. I've loved you always.” He reached his hand out to me and I flinched away. His face twisted, more tears falling. “Don't,” he choked. “Please believe me.”
“I... I...” I pushed back against the couch, wanting to fade into the fabric.
I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. It wasn't true. None of it could be true. Marc was good. He was honest and soft and selfless. He had loved me. Hadn't he? We had held each other and laughed and he had blushed and stammered and been beautiful. Hadn't he? I couldn't remember. What had happened, what had I dreamed? What had been real and what had I been convincing myself of? He couldn't have loved me, I had always known that. But, at least, I thought he had been real. I thought I had known a little bit of him. Had I? Had it all been a lie? All been an act? No.
“Dakota,” Haden whispered, his voice soft and choked.
I met his warm brown eyes and saw him for the first time, really saw him. His curly blond hair was tangled, as if he had pushed his fingers through it anxiously. His eyes were bright, wet with tears. The brown there was warm and honest, and I noticed a light rim of blue around his irises. His face was open, his eyebrows pulled together. The little lines of worry fanned out across his forehead, stubble shadowed his jaw. It was familiar. It wasn't the same, but it was close. If you thought hard enough, you could maybe even pretend it was the same. But it wasn't. It wasn't. Haden stretched out his hand.
“Haden,” I whispered, the cold air around him choking my lungs. My fists were balled up and pressed into the carpet. I couldn't make them reach out to his familiar hand. But I wanted to.
“I would never hurt you, Dakota. Please. Trust me.” His eyes were wide as I looked down at his hand. My fists loosened.
The air shivered beside me, parting the cold. I turned my head, heavy and slow, toward the sensation. A sound like a growl slipped through Haden's clenched teeth, a low rumble sounded from the street. Marc flashed into existence a few feet away, his fists clenched. His eyes raked the room, landing on me. His face flooded with relief and he stepped toward me. Without thinking, I cringed away. Marc stopped in the middle of a step, hurt and confused.
“Ouch, bro,” Haden whispered, still sitting calmly across from me. Marc's hurt and confusion filled with anger and suspicion.
“What did you tell her?” Marc growled.
“The truth, Marc. She deserves to know.” Marc took another step toward me, never even looking at his brother.
“Dakota,” he begged, his eyes burning. “Don't believe a word he says.”
“I was just telling her the same about you.” Haden's voice was calm and cold.
“Take my hand.” Marc reached out to me.
“Don't touch her,” Haden spat.
“Dakota, you know me. Come with me. Come home.”
“Don't let him hurt you,” Haden was squatting again, his hand still reaching for me.
“I would never hurt her!” Marc roared, finally turning on his brother.
“You already did,” Haden said, looking only at me. Marc looked between us, confused.
“She knows how much I love her,” Marc whispered, sounding unsure.
“Do you, Dakota?” Haden asked, brown eyes burning.
“I...” The two halves of my heart pulled painfully in opposite directions. “No,” I breathed. Marc groaned, his hands pulling through his hair.
“Dakota, come with me,” Haden said, his voice eager.
“I can't,” I cried. My heart, how was it possible? It felt on fire, crushed, freezing.
“You can!” His hand inched forward. Marc knelt beside me.
“Please,” I begged. My heart couldn't take it.
“Dakota, look at me.” Marc's voice was thick.
“Take my hand, Dakota.”
“Look at me.”
“Don't listen to him.”
“I'm warning you, 'Den!” Marc shouted.
“This is it!” Haden roared back. My ears rang. “This is the choice you forced her to make!”
“Dakota,” Marc begged. “Look at me.”
I turned my eyes to him, hardly knowing what I should expect to feel. His face was tormented and pained. His eyes were burning, full of tears. He reached his hand out, his breath catching.
“My life,” he whispered.
I reached out without even thinking. As my palm touched his, everything shifted. The sensation was that of being rolled by a huge, deadly wave. There was no water, so I could breathe, but it felt more natural to gasp. A giant wave of cloud and fog seemed to toss and batter me. I was dimly aware of the painful grip crushing my other wrist, but I was most aware of the warm palm against mine. My thoughts seemed to move at high speed in this whirling air. The palm made a thousand images flash behind my eyes. Marc's hair full of sunlight, his laughing eyes, his blushing ears, his heel rubbing against his jaw, his surprised laughter, his soft touch, his lips on mine. The crushing grip at my other wrist tightened, and another reel played through my mind. My conversation with Haden rolled by like an old video on fast forward. He's the best liar. He's dangerous. Volatile. He killed our mother, he covered her eyes. Got some girl pregnant. Trust me.
Everything lurched to a sickening halt. My knees sank into the familiar desert sand and the sudden heat choked me. Even in the dull, moonlit darkness I gasped against the thick air. Marc stood above me, a little sparse tree that I recognized behind him. Haden was kneeling next to me, finally releasing my wrist, his grin aimed at his brother. I felt my head swimming as the warm palm pulled me out of the way. Marc lifted his foot slowly, hiking his knee toward the starlit night sky. The air parted as he shoved it forward, the bottom of his winged shoe connecting with a terrifying crunch against his brother's nose. Haden grunted as blood poured into the sand. Marc never let go of my hand. Then we disappeared.
I gasped as cold air hit my face. Where the heat had just been burning, cold forest mist beaded against my skin. I had a second to recognize the trees around me, the sheer rock face climbing into the clouds. Then another warm hand grabbed my arm and shoved me against the stone wall.
“Hurry, get up against the mountain,” Peter breathed into my ear.
“It won't work,” Haylee groaned under her breath from somewhere beside me, her voice full of fear.
“Yes it will,” Peter muttered in a rush. “I saw it in his face when I asked him about the mountain before; he won't be able to touch it.”
Marc stepped in front of me, covering my body with his. He pressed my back to the rock wall until it was hard to breath. I turned my head slightly to see Peter pressing in beside me. Haylee was next to him, Hector pressed protectively over one of her shoulders. Anna and Adam, too, were crowded against the rock on my other side. We looked like frightened escapees, finally cornered by dogs.
Haden appeared in the air in front of us, one hand covering his bleeding nose. I could see him grin around his fingers. He locked eyes with me, all the softness was gone. He rushed forward, reaching a hand out for me. About two inches from Marc and I, his fingers blurred into fog. Haden gasped and pulled his hand back. He growled and reached forward again, this time at the level of his brother's throat. His hand misted, seeming to float away in long tendrils. He roared and paced in front of us. One last time he reached out with both hands, aimed with violent force at Marc. A few inches away, he halted as if being shoved back, the hair standing up on his arms while the fog enveloped him. He yanked his hands back with another violent grunt.
He slid into a crouch, pulling a tattered baseball cap from his back pocket. His eyes met mine, glorious and wild. His lips were turned up into a snarling grin. He lifted the cap over his head. “Wrong choice,” he spat. The cap flattened his curls and he was gone.
Marc let his breath out loudly. I became aware that I was trembling, my teeth chattering. Haylee moaned softly, relaxing a little. My head felt like it was under a pillow, floating and muffled. I tried to shift my weight, but Marc held me firmly in place against the mountain behind us. He reached his arms out, staying close to the rock.
“Everybody grab on,” he said.
“Stay against the mountain,” Peter added.
I tried to reach for one of his hands, but they were stretched too far away. Haylee and Peter wrapped a hand around one wrist, Hector taking Marc's palm like a hand shake. Adam and Anna hugged his other arm. “Dakota,” Marc growled. I wrapped both arms around his middle with a sigh, trying not to think about it. Of course, I failed miserably, reveling in his scent and the warmth of his skin. We disappeared.

the Adonis

This is just a little after our last encounter. All you've missed, really, is Dakota mourning. You get the picture. They decide to push forward and search for the others. The first place they come to is a little farm house tucked away against the woods. When they get there, they hear shouts coming from behind the house. Then, strange things start happening in the sky.

It had been nearly noon, the sun hanging high in the middle of the sky. Suddenly, it was setting. I blinked hard, unsure of what was happening. But there it was, burning in the west, hovering over the horizon. The sky was dimmer, orange where the clouds reflected the sinking sun. The moon was rising quickly, racing up into the sky. Another shout. This one female. I took a step into the field. I shivered to be unprotected by the trees. The air moved as Marc grabbed for me, missing by an inch. I almost smiled. I was going to be brave. I would prove myself to him, if nothing else. I could just make out their voices, pulsing in the air.
“Anna! They're here! Knock it off!” This was the man's voice.
“Stay here!” the female grunted.
“Let me go!” More sounds of struggling. The sun pushed higher again, straining toward noon. The moon kept climbing.
“You can't know that they won't hurt us!” the girl's voice squeaked.
“Anna!” he whined. “That's exactly what I can do!” I took another step forward.
“Hello?” I called. My voice was high and strong. I was almost proud. The girl gasped.
“Adam, please. It's a trap. Don't go!” The sun was almost directly over head, a breath away from the round moon.
“We won't hurt you,” Peter called. His gruff voice didn't exactly sound reassuring as he stepped out beside me. His palms were facing out in front of him. I pushed them down.
“Come on, Anna!” the boy said.
The sun covered the moon above our heads. For a moment, there was just this strange soft of eclipse, then a blinding light exploded from behind the house. I threw my hands up to shield my eyes. A bright white light, rounding out higher than the house, blazed in the distance. It moved out into the open. The center was almost impossible to look directly at, the brightest point of the light. Two figures stood in the middle, hand in hand. The light moved toward us across the field, burning brighter as it came. They stopped a few yards off, still clasping hands.
“Hello, friends!” the cheerful male voice called.
“Can you cut that light, kid!” Peter shouted. Haylee was shielding her eyes behind her brother's back.
“Oh. Sorry, Peter.” The light vanished.
Two young figures stood in front of us. I took them in while little black dots floated along each blink. They were still holding hands, the boy smiling cheerfully and the girl looking pained. I had thought that Haylee and Peter looked similar; it was nothing compared to these two. They were the exact same height, with the same build. The girl had a slight curve to her hips, and the differences ended there. They were both wearing all white, their identical gray eyes curious. Their light blond hair was the same color and texture, his buzzed close to his head and hers falling to her chin. They couldn't have been more than eighteen, if that. I couldn't remember having ever seen two people who were so much the same.
“I'm so glad you're here!” the boy called, smiling widely. Adam, had the girl said? He looked up at the sky, the sun still covering the moon. “Anna,” he whispered, nudging the girl. She looked up too. With a sigh, the moon fell slowly to slip beneath the horizon.
“Wow,” Haylee breathed.
“Thanks, Haylee,” the boy called. “We think it's cool too.” Haylee's eyebrows rose up her forehead.
I hadn't taken my eye off of the girl. Her face was terrified, her eyes filled with tears. She was gripping the boys hand roughly, her breathing rapid. I felt the air around them, taking them in. The air around the boy was hard to place. His breath seemed to... sing. That was the only way to describe it. It fell around him like music notes, soft and easy. There was no fear. The girl was different. Her quick breath shot out like arrows, fast and steady. She was afraid, tears leaking from her gray eyes.
“You know who we are?” Marc interrupted.
“I do,” the boy answered, smiling proudly.
“How?” Peter asked.
“I can-”
“Guess,” the girl cut him off, her eyes darting around. “He guessed.” The boy looked at her warmly.
“It's ok, Anna. They're friends.” He looked back at us. “I can see the future.” He smiled.
“Well that's useful,” Peter exhaled happily.
“Apollo,” Marc breathed. Adam looked surprised.
“That's right,” he said. His shoulders were squared proudly.
“The god of prophecy,” Marc said. “We were great friends once.”
“Maybe again. I can't see that yet.” The boy smiled warmly.
“That must make you...” Haylee began, looking at the girl.
“Artemis,” she whispered.
“Would you like to come inside?” the boy asked. The pair turned and made their way toward the house. Peter shrugged and we followed.
The big sitting room was about the last thing I had expected. Trophy heads hung on every spare surface: boars, bear, deer, even something that looked like it might have been a lion. A huge glass case sat in the corner, long rifles and shot guns glimmered in the sun. The pair sat on the couch, still hand in hand, looking expectantly at us. We stood in a tight line across from them, taking in the slightly terrifying surroundings.

So there were six. The twins try to be as hospitable as they can, despite their house of horrors. So Anna does what she does best: hunt.

We filed outside slowly, our eyes scanning in rotation. Adam stopped on the grass and we stood beside him. Anna was a few yards ahead, lowering herself down on one knee. The field stretched out for miles, coming to connect again with the forest a long way off. The line of trees was just a blur of green from this distance. Anna lifted her rifle quickly, peering over the barrel with one eye closed. A shot rang out. Haylee jumped. Anna slung the gun over her shoulder again and walked off toward the forest.
“What was it, Anna?” her brother called.
“A deer,” she answered cheerfully.
“She couldn't... she didn't actually hit something,” Marc choked.
“Of course. She's the goddess of the hunt,” her brother answered.

All things considered, they spend their afternoon pretty comfortably in each other's company. Marc won't look at Dakota, of course, but she tries to put on a smile for their newest additions. Anna and Adam happily agree to join them on their search for the others, as soon as they've enjoyed Anna's meal. But Peter has to get a little fun in first.

Haylee and I were across the room, looking out the window at Adam in the yard. “That is disgusting,” I gagged. Though, it was impressive, I had to admit.
Adam sliced through the deer's skin with quick, delicate movements. He had lifted the fur off in a matter of minutes, and had moved on to extracting the insides. He had splattered blood over his clean white shirt and removed it, the warm sun now shining off of his pale skin. I surveyed his strong arms, slick with blood up to the elbow. I gagged again. Haylee leaned closer to me. “He's, like,” she whispered, searching for the words, “ripped, isn't he?”
Haylee had a point. Adam's young age did not distract from the appearance of his shirtless form. His chest and stomach were perfectly chiseled, his arms thick and sculpted. The shape of his back was flawless, the muscles pulling and flexing tightly. His perfect boyish face was furrowed in concentration, sweat dripping down his neck. I shrugged.
“Oh, it's so wrong,” Haylee groaned, closing her eyes. “He's too young, I can't watch.”
“He's not that much younger than you, Haylee,” I whispered back.
“I'm a nasty old cougar,” she wailed under her breath.
“What are we talking about?” Peter whispered, putting his head between mine and Haylee's to look out the window. He glanced at Adam hunched over the deer. “Oh,” he said, nodding. “Shame on you two.” Haylee whimpered softly.
“Leave me out of this,” I said.
“No offense, but I think I might have a better chance than either of you,” Peter said, still watching the bloodied youth. Haylee gasped at her brother.
“No way,” she breathed.
“Oh ho, yes,” Peter chuckled.
“You are out of your mind,” Haylee said. He turned his eyes on her, challenged.
“You think I'm wrong?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“There's no way,” Haylee said, folding her arms.
“Watch carefully,” Peter said, straightening up.
Peter pulled his shirt off as he walked toward the back door. I covered my mouth to hide my laughter, Haylee gasped, and Anna didn't look up from her gun. She lifted one hand silently to shield her eyes from Peter's form. He slipped through the back door. Haylee and I turned eagerly toward the window. Peter came into view outside. He was not in bad shape himself, if we were being fair. A little less carved than the youth perhaps, but more muscular. The sun was warm against his tan skin, his thick arms flexed as he stretched in the light. He made his way to the little pond.
Adam glanced up at Peter from his work. He looked back at the meat again. “Ah ha!” Haylee cheered. Adam's head snapped back toward Peter. “Oh no,” she breathed. It was a clear double take. Adam's eyes widened, his neck flushed. He sat back a little, stunned. Peter walked past without looking, a tiny grin on his face. Adam's eyes raked over Peter's chest, scanning him from head to foot as he paraded by. He was holding his breath. Peter kicked his shoes off and slid gracefully into the water. Adam took a deep breath, shaking his head slowly. He bent over his work again, peaking up at every few seconds Peter as he swam.
“Is Peter flirting with the Adonis?” Marc asked, bending over to watch too.
“No,” Haylee sighed, defeated. “He's proving a point.”

leaving

Hello. :) I am attempting to force myself to complete this crazy, amazing, mad, thrilling project this month. I figured when better than NaNoWriMo? I'm getting closer every day, and I can feel it. Thanks for hanging in there.

This next bit comes right after the last. It's a tad sentimental, but there's some action coming up. Be patient. :) Haylee, Peter, Marc, and Dakota decide that they should begin their search for the others. But first, they should probably get out of the house, since Haden has promised to come back for them. But, while Peter and Haylee are in the other room, Marc makes a confession.

“What is it about me?” Marc said. I was unsure for a moment whether or not he was talking to himself. “What is it about me that makes me perfectly incapable of protecting the things that are mine?” He laughed, but the sound was empty, his face blank. “My mother. My father. You. I can love them as much as I want, watch over them. But they slip through my fingers when I turn away for just a second. Looking out the car window. Investigating a sound in the street. Stepping into the shower. I have to look away eventually, to blink. But that's enough time to ruin everything.” The air was heavy. I didn't know what to say. Was everything ruined?
“Marc,” I whispered.
“Haden will know. He'll know about Peter, about you healing him. He'll put the pieces together.” Marc turned his tortured blue gaze on me. “He'll know that you're the only one who can't be healed. I would run as fast as I could, Dakota. But it wouldn't be enough. There wouldn't be anyone waiting on the other side to bring you back. I'd lose you.” He closed his eyes for a long time. “So he'll come for you last. Not Peter this time. Not any of the others. He'll take them, of course. To have them out of the way. But he'll wait for you. Because he knows I will follow, and this time it wouldn't matter. The exchange isn't my life, after all. It's yours. Because it's the same thing.”
I crossed the room and knelt in front of him. I took his hands in mine but he pulled them away, his eyes shut tightly. There had to be something I could say, some way to comfort him. But he was right. That was the bottom line. He was absolutely right. I was the only one that I couldn't heal. If Haden took me, I'd stay there forever. Even if Marc could bring my body back through the river, it wouldn't matter. Haden would win. But if that was inevitable, if my death was the final motion, maybe I had a little time. Maybe I could save the rest of them before it was too late for me.
“Eventually,” Marc whispered, his eyes closed. “Eventually, I'll have to blink, Dakota. And you'll be gone.”
“We can stop him, Marc,” I said. The voices had told me that it was possible to beat him. There was a way, even if it would be hard.
“I don't see how,” Marc whispered. “He didn't even kill Peter. He just locked him up in plain sight, right where I could find him. He knew that I'd follow. He knew that the only way out was through the river. He made me take him that way. He made me kill him myself. I can't bring anyone through that river alive, I can barely bring myself...” Marc was staring out at nothing.
“Then we'll fight him above ground,” I said. “We'll get to the others first, bring them back to the mountain. It's safe. I don't know why, but it is. We'll buy some time. We'll wait. We'll have a plan.”
“Then I'll find them myself,” Marc said. “I'll bring them back and you stay here at the mountain. You'll be safe without me.”
“I go where you go,” I repeated.
“You can't stay with me, Dakota!” he shouted. The air seemed to split apart. He meant more than he was saying, I could tell as his eyes rimmed with tears. What did he mean?
“I...” I couldn't find any words. He closed his eyes.
“It's better that way,” he breathed. “You'll be so much safer without me. Happier. I can't protect you. It isn't fair to drag you down with me. I won't hurt you.”
“You are hurting me,” I whispered. I wasn't sure he heard.
“You'll be alright. You don't need me. There are more of us out there, you'll have company. Maybe Peter-”
“What?!” I nearly shouted. Marc didn't meet my outraged glare.
“He can keep you safe,” Marc said. His voice was barely a whisper as he stared out into the night. “You'd be happier with him.”
“You're insane,” I growled. It was one thing to leave me, I had expected that. It was another thing to pair me. To hand me off. Did he think I could possibly feel about anyone else the way I felt about him?
“I know you can't picture it now.” He didn't look like he wanted to picture it either. “But you'll fit with him.”
“Impossible,” I whispered.
“It isn't. I dreamed it.” Marc had an empty sort of smile. “The way it's supposed to be.”
“You're wrong. I can't believe you're saying this.”
“It will be easy, to fall into his arms.” He swallowed hard
“No,” I whispered. I wasn't sure what I was protesting to. He looked at me, his face tortured. I climbed to my feet.
“Dakota,” he said. I shook my head.
“I understand.” It was my turn to close my eyes. “I don't blame you.”
“Dakota, please.” He got to his feet too.
“You don't want me.” The words were hard, but not impossible. I had said them many times. Marc choked on the heavy air around us. “But the rest isn't up to you. You can leave me, that's your choice. But there are other people involved. You don't get to decide for all of us. They deserve a say.”
I turned my back on Marc. This action was almost harder than anything else that had passed in the last hours. I made my way toward the bedroom, each step forward taking careful thought and concentration. I could feel sobs pushing up against my chest. But not yet. There would time soon enough to mourn. I had business first.
“Where are you going?” Marc choked from behind me. I didn't turn.
“To wake the others.”

So, she explains to the others that Marc wants her to stay behind. Peter and Haylee obviously protest. They agree to stay together to seek out others, though Marc isn't happy about it. Dakota, devastated, tries to have a moment to herself but overhears a whispered conversation.

I spun toward the bathroom. Please let me make it before the tears came. I passed through the doorway and shut the door behind me. I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle the sobs. That was the last thing I wanted now, for everyone to hear my rejected tears. I sat heavily on the floor. I couldn't control it, I couldn't concentrate enough to block them out. Haylee breathing in the kitchen. Marc and Peter facing each other in the living room. Everything was confused. Hurt. Troubled. Angry. Peter walked toward Marc, stopping in front of him.
“What are you doing?” Peter demanded.
“I have to keep her safe,” Marc was almost silent. Peter grabbed the collar of Marc's shirt, pushing him roughly into the wall.
“You saved my life. I can't ask any more of you. But let me make myself clear. If you hurt Dakota, I will hurt you. I won't like it. I won't enjoy myself. But I will hurt you.”
“I'm hurt enough,” Marc whispered. Peter walked away.
A soft knock came on the door. I tried to take a breath to tell them to go away, but I couldn't. I was just quiet instead. “Dakota, I'm coming in,” Peter called. The knob turned and the door cracked open. Of course I hadn't locked it. This day could probably not get any worse. I took the thought back as soon as it came into my mind. My life never ceased to surprise me. It could always get worse. Peter sat down in front of me, tucking my hair behind my ear. I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
“How you doing, kid?” he asked. I almost laughed.
“Fine,” I said.
“How are you really doing?” His face was filled with concern. I bit back a sob.
“I feel like I might die,” I whispered.
“I wouldn't recommend it,” Peter smiled sadly. He pulled me against his chest.
“What was it like?” I mumbled into his shirt.
“To die?” he asked. I nodded. He was quiet for a minute, rubbing my back. “It was easy,” he shrugged. He lifted my face. “This shit's harder,” he said. I laughed between tears. “It's going to be alright. Do you know that?”
“I don't see how,” I whispered.
“Trust me.” He hugged me tightly and pulled me to my feet.