Jay Budgett - The Indigo Thief

Kindred shook her head. “You’ll see her again, dear.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks, Kindred.” I stared out the window at the sprawling sea. It started raining. “I wish you could’ve seen Charlie’s chopsticks. They always stuck straight out from the back of her bun. Sometimes, when she was in class, a pencil joined them. Occasionally a toothbrush, if she’d had a rough morning. Mom joked she even wore her chopsticks to sleep.”

Phoenix squeezed my shoulder. “Hang in there, kid.”

I glanced at the numbers swirling in the red orb. They flashed and changed to 71:00 .

“Seventy-one hours,” said Phoenix. I just sighed and nodded.

Phoenix rubbed the ConSynth’s edge. “Take us home, Bertha,” he said at last.

Sparky said our names were all over the news. According to the radio stations, there was a nationwide manhunt—the largest in the new world’s history—for the surviving Lost Boys. Boats scoured the seas, searching. Apparently, they even showed our mug shots before the movies. I, of course, was exempt from the coverage. The Feds were sticking with their story that I was dead. Charlie, too. Phoenix said, however, that it was just stuff for the press. The chancellor and Miranda were searching for us, yet they were also developing a plan. He said we should be doing the same.

They gave me a room in the New Texas fort, right next to Sparky’s. The whole island was pretty damaged, but its bones were still good, and, in time, they said it’d be fully repaired. And now I was officially a member of the team—an orphan, like the others. A real Lost Boy if there ever was one.

Kindred had put Sage in the bed I was in when I first arrived, and Phoenix had created a plan to get Sage an IV and keep her fed with fluids—he said as long as we fed her, she’d stay alive. We had a raid planned for a Newla hospital later that week, to stock up on the medical supplies she would need. We all agreed we wouldn’t let go of one of the bravest girls we’d ever met: our new friend, Sage.

I was sitting in the fort’s basement, running my hands along the ConSynth, when its countdown clock flashed 24:00 . The red ConSynth felt warm beneath my fingers, like it generated its own heat, and maybe its own heartbeat. I heard feet on the ladder. Bertha and Phoenix join me in the basement. The air smelled vaguely like muffins.

I smiled. “Kindred’s cooking.”

Phoenix nodded. “She’s making a cake.”

“Blueberry, I assume?”

He grinned. “Wouldn’t doubt it.”

Bertha put her hand against my back and gave me an odd smile—the kind you give to your dentist when he says he’s glad to see you.

“All right,” she said, removing her hand. “I’m terrible at this shit—I just feel creepy.” She pointed to the ConSynth and held her face in her hand. “I’m really sorry about all this—about all these dead people you really liked.”

In a weird way, I was touched. Bertha wasn’t good at dealing with her emotions, but it was nice to see that she cared enough to try.

I patted her on the back and turned to Phoenix. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” he nodded. “Anything you want, and you’ll get the truth.”

“Why me?” I said. “I mean, I get that I probably would’ve died and maybe been tortured if Mila had left me to drown—but still, even after that, there were so many times you could’ve let me slip away. The first time I woke up and tried to kill you all—perfect chance to let me die. I dove right into a megalodon’s mouth, after all—it would’ve saved you a lot of trouble. Why would you want to worry about dealing with someone else? Someone who caused more problems?”

“First off,” he said, “if someone is crazy enough to dive into the mouth of a live megalodon—to let the ocean’s most horrifying monster eat them whole—then that’s a person I want on my team. The kind of person I need in order to make this revolution successful. Crazy people are, perhaps, the only individuals with enough bravery and foolishness to change the world. The meek might inherit the earth, but only after the fools have tamed it, transformed it, and made it their own.”

“The megalodon… that was nothing. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“And that’s a good thing,” Phoenix said. “Revolutions aren’t about thinking—they’re about instincts. A caterpillar doesn’t think about becoming a butterfly. It just trusts its instincts, and it does.”

“You’re the one,” said Bertha in a hushed voice. “The one we’ve been waiting for. The one we’ve been waiting for, for a long, long time. You’re the one who will save us all.” She grabbed my cheeks and bore her brown eyes into mine. “The one who will take back the world. You’re the one from the prophecy, Kai Bradbury. The boy the elders said would come!”

“There’s a prophecy?” The room was spinning. Everything got blurry. “This is… all part of a prophecy?”

Bertha broke into laughter. “Christ, Car Battery! You think I’d believe that bullshit?” She punched me in the shoulder. “I’m just screwing with ya. There’s no prophecy.”

My heart was still pounding. “Good thing we all promised to be honest with each other…”

She pointed a finger to Phoenix. “ He promised you honesty; I didn’t. I’m gonna keep screwing with you until the day you die.”

I turned to Phoenix. “And when exactly will that be?”

He hesitated. “I—I thought we established I wasn’t trying to kill you…”

“I know,” I said, “but what comes next? When do I risk my life next? I mean, we’ve got the report, and we’ve got tons of Indigo. What’s next?”

Phoenix smiled. “Patience, grasshopper.”

Kindred poked her head into the basement. “Excuse me, dears!” She held a cake in her outstretched arms. “Cake here for Mr. Bradbury!”

“What?” I said. “What for?”

Kindred passed it to Bertha and climbed down the ladder. “Your birthday, dear. We never celebrated it properly.”

“Ah.” I smiled and glanced at the cake. “Let me guess… blueberry?”

“Heavens no!” Kindred looked disgusted. Bertha breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s strawberry.”

Bertha groaned.

Kindred passed me the cake. “Have a look, dear.”

Painted on a layer of white frosting was a crude picture of me and the Lost Boys, in a circle, holding hands. In red icing, someone had written, “ HAPPY BIRTDAY, KAI! ” and below that, “ FAMILIE .”

Bertha shook her head. “Jesus, Dove…”

“Wow,” I said, still staring at the cake. “I—I don’t know what to say. Except thank you.” My eyes felt damp, and I wiped them with my hand. “It—it means a lot, guys.”

Kindred smiled. “We’ve got something else for you too, dear.”

Mila climbed down the ladder and passed me an envelope. “For you, Kai.”

Inside the envelope was a picture of my mom. Her black hair was pinned up, and her face was turned to the side. It was a mug shot, obviously, but it was still Mom. It was the only picture I had of her now. Kindred was right: I did get to see her again.

I sucked in a breath. “Wow.” I wanted to say thanks, but the word caught in my throat.

“I grabbed it from the desk when we were running from the cells,” said Mila. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” I said. “Thank you.” I glanced around the room. “Would this be a bad time for a group hug?”

Bertha started to grumble, but Phoenix shot her a look, and she nodded. “Bring it in, then, I guess.”

Something was missing.

“Where’s Dove and Sparky?” I asked.

“ HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR KAI-I!” their voices trailed in from above. They climbed down the ladder wearing red party hats decorated with pictures of cheeseburgers.