Sherry Ficklin - Extracted

“Hey,” I say, feeling awkward as she stares at me. “You my babysitter or something?”

She looks at me quizzically. “No, why? Do you need one?”

I sigh and fold my arms across my chest. The lights are low but the air is hot and thick. Nothing about this place feels like home to me.

“Then why are you sitting out here?”

The girl shrugs. “It’s quiet.”

She’s petite but really toned. She’s wearing a black tank top under scraps of brown leather, pieced together to form a sort of corset under her bust. Her grey cargo pants have been haphazardly patched over with what I assume are pieces of the Hollows’ common room sofa.

“I’m Ember,” I whisper, not wanting to wake anyone else who might still be sleeping.

“Sisson,” she answers, pulling at the fraying hem of her pant leg.

“Do you know where my brother’s room is?”

She points down the hall. “Around the corner. Third door on the right.”

“Thanks.”

“But he’s not in there,” she adds as I move to step away.

I rotate back to her, trying to not be irritated. “Then where is he?”

She jerks her head down the other hall. “Half-pipe.”

“Well, thanks again, I guess.”

She doesn’t say anything else as I walk away, but I can feel her watching me.

Somehow I manage not to get lost making my way back to the main room. True to her word, I find Lex sitting on top of the half-pipe, his legs hanging over the edge.

“Gimme a hand,” I say, taking a run at the wall. I get more than halfway up when he grabs my hand and pulls me the rest of the way.

“You couldn’t sleep, either?” he asks as I sit beside him.

“Nope.”

He pulls a dingy jester’s hat off his head and stuffs it in his pocket. “No offense, sis, but I think I’m all talked out.”

I lay my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

We sit like that for a while. Neither of us talks. The room is lit, but there’s no one else around. Finally I straighten, ready to leave him to his thoughts. But when he turns to look at me, his face is red and tears have left trails down his face.

Instantly, I’m crying too. There’s no sound, just the gush of emotions too fast and confusing to hold onto. He leans over, laying his head in my lap. I stroke his hair like I used to when we were little.

Our first night in captivity, after the soldiers had taken our family, my sisters and I had to share an old mattress. Alexei was supposed to be sleeping with Mama and Papa, but in the middle of the night he’d come to me, crying silently so he wouldn’t wake them. I’d held him all night, stroking his hair just like this, while a soldier glared at us from the corner of the room.

We never talked about it, and Alexei never let Papa see him cry. But during that long year, we shared many nights just like this.

“Baby, are you asleep?”

“No. And don’t call me that. I’m thirteen now,” he mumbles with his back to me as we lie across from each other in the dark room. The floor is cold under me and I’m sure it must be worse for him. I at least have Olga curled next to me. He’s all alone under the threadbare quilt.

“Do you want to come over here with us?”

He’s quiet, and for a second I think he’s fallen asleep. But just as I’m about to roll over, he stands, wrapping his only blanket over his arm. He folds it out across Olga and me, and curls in beside me.

“I know you aren’t a baby anymore, Alexei. But you’ll always be my baby brother. No matter how big you get.” Exhaustion rolls over me and I yawn. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

“Promise?” he asks, only a slight tremble in his voice. Down the hall, the sounds of heavy boots march down the stairs. The guards are ending their shift. It’ll be morning soon.

“I promise.”

It feels so strange now, those memories. I wanted them so badly, but at the same time, part of me wishes I could forget. How pathetic is that?

I’ve just barely closed my eyes and settled in to rest when the gas lamps on the wall flare bright red. The sound of boots stomping past my door makes me jolt upright. I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but someone has covered me with a scratchy wool blanket, which I toss aside immediately. I stand and it takes me a full minute to get my bearings. Just as I step forward, the door flies open and Lex pokes his head in.

“Um, Ember? I think you have a guest. Better go claim him before Bruce shoots him with the cannon.”

I practically fly down the hall and into the main room, where Ethan is handcuffed to the support rail beside the half-pipe.

“Two intruders in two days,” Bruce grumbles. “Did someone put out the welcome mat?”

Beside him, two young boys I don’t recognize chuckle. Lex shoots them a stern glare.

“Is he yours?” Lex leans over and whispers.

But I’m already moving. How could I possibly miss someone so much in such a short span of time? I rush him, wrapping my arms around him, and squeezing him until he has to tap out.

“Can’t. Breathe,” he chokes.

His non-cuffed arm wraps around my waist and pulls me tight to his body. Now I’m the one who can’t breathe. Pulling back just enough that our foreheads are still pressed together, I inhale the familiar scent of him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, not really caring. I’m just so glad he is.

“I told you I’d come for you,” he answers, raking his fingers through my hair and sending tingles down my back.

“It’s only been a day,” I whisper in a weak excuse for protest.

He straightens, adjusting his vest. “As soon as I saw you vanish, I knew I couldn’t let you go alone. I left almost right after you did.” Grinning guiltily, he adds, “I know I said I’d wait, but I just couldn’t.”

I should be upset that he didn’t do as I asked, but it’s really hard to be angry with him looking at me like that.

“Who is he?” one of the Hollows interrupts.

“Who’s the hot guy?” a girl with frizzy ginger curls asks.

From the hall behind me, Sisson enters the room. “What does he want?”

“Yes, who are you and why are you groping my sister?” Lex calls from the corner of the room, where he’s picked up a mean-looking katana.

I roll my eyes and Ethan clears his throat.

“His name is Ethan,” I answer loud enough for the room full of onlookers to hear. “And he’s my…he’s mine. He’s mine.” I say the last words with my eyes locked on his, and when they glint in delight, I know I’m right. He’s mine.

“Ember, take a step back, please,” Lex says, his voice tight as he moves toward us, sword still in hand.

“Relax, Lex. He’s with me. He’s not a bad guy.”

“He’s the guy from the pier,” Lex says, pointing the katana at Ethan. “The one who nearly killed me. You want what? For us to kiss and make up? I don’t think so.”

“You mean like how your girlfriend tried to light me on fire at the World’s Fair?”

“Besides, you aren’t really my type. No offense,” Ethan chimes in.

“Not helping,” I mumble out the corner of my mouth.

Lex mumbles, “She didn’t know who you were. To me. She just…I mean, come on. Really not the point.”

“But you, knowing who Ethan is to me, would still threaten him?” I glare, folding my arms across my chest. Lex frowns.

“I say we take him downstairs and let some of Nobel’s machines have their way with him,” Bruce says with a big grin.

I point at him. “I’d like to see you try.”

At this point things get a little out of hand. Some scrawny dude grabs me by the arm and pulls me into the crowd, yelling, “Get him, Lex.”

I dart to the side, punch him in the throat, and sweep his legs out from under him. The burly one moves toward me, but before he can take two steps Ethan leaps onto his back, putting him in a choke hold. His brass cuffs are still dangling from the pipe. I laugh. He’s like Houdini, but with better hair.