the floor every night, to watch the light go out in your shack through the gaps in my walls and not do anything about it?”
“You pay attention to all that?”
“Every night. And I have to fight myself to not leave my shack and head for yours."
“You do?” I asked, incredulous. I had no idea.
He stared back at me, dazed. “Yes…You don’t feel the same?” He suddenly turned from me. “No, forget it, I don’t want to know.”
Stepping down into the boat, he attempted to end the conversation, but I didn’t let him.
“Yes, Jameson, I do. I just-I didn’t know you felt that way.”
Standing in the hull of the boat, he was looking up at me, doing an impressive job of maintaining his balance.
Quietly, as if still taken aback by our conversation, he openly confessed, “I do, Jocelyn.”
He held out his hand, offering me a stable way down to him, which I took, our hands never releasing once inside the boat.
As we crossed the waterway to Jameson's parent's shack, I remained stupefied by our brazenly honest admissions. I knew he was affected by it too. The look on his face and the tension in his shoulders gave it away.
Over the course of those days, I felt like we had been given a reprieve by the Vires, even while anxiously waiting on the news of another prison being annihilated. We knew an attack was inevitable, and when I wasn’t thinking about Jameson, I was battling the guilt I felt for being the precursor to another round of lives being lost. News of it finally came while I was seeing the wounded, an evening practice I established with Isadora. We had just left the last shack on Isadora’s list when Jameson and Theleo landed in front of us, their descent causing the dock to rattle beneath our feet.
Theleo escorting Jameson was an anomaly, so whatever had brought them to us was out of the ordinary - and urgent. I knew immediately that something was wrong.
As Theleo began to speak, Jameson and I looked at each other and the vigilance in our eyes conveyed everything I needed to know before Theleo finished.
“Great Britain. Almost entirely decimated. The Vires spent days there, returning in sporadic flights.”
I sighed, feeling the pain of their suffering in my heart. Memories of New York - where infants were pressed to their mother’s chests and the elderly had collapsed in pain against the trunks of trees - entered my thoughts, and I found my teeth grinding together as I suppressed another wave of guilt coursing through me. “Their Officer told you?”
Jameson confirmed it. “He’s at my place.”
I gave Isadora a silent confirmation that our visitations were over, which she acknowledged by gesturing for Theleo to take me. He did and we reached Jameson’s shack in seconds.
The Dissenters’ Officer to the Vire prison in Great Britain approached me as I came into view, his gangly limbs carrying him across the dock in haste and his English accent reaching me before there was solid ground beneath my feet.
“Relicuum,” he said. Noticing my surprised reaction, he continued, “Yes, I know who you are. Word of you is spreading.” After making that clarification, he returned to the business at hand. “My name is William Harrison. We were attacked three days ago…” he paused before admitting, “It may still be continuing. And we need your help.”
Jameson stiffened. “You believe we’ll find Vires there?”
William looked at him, grimly. “It’s very possible.”
As I watched Jameson begin to frown, I interrupted before he finished his assessment of the dangers. Otherwise, I was certain he’d find a way to keep me here. “Great Britain’s a long way. We shouldn’t waste any more time.”
“Agreed,” said William, firmly.
Picking up on Jameson's hesitation, Theleo inquired, “Jameson…?”
“Oh…,” he chuckled. “I’m coming.”
“As am I,” said Theleo, stepping forward with resolve.
Of course, I knew Theleo’s reasoning for accompanying us. He was one of the
“You pay attention to all that?”
“Every night. And I have to fight myself to not leave my shack and head for yours."
“You do?” I asked, incredulous. I had no idea.
He stared back at me, dazed. “Yes…You don’t feel the same?” He suddenly turned from me. “No, forget it, I don’t want to know.”
Stepping down into the boat, he attempted to end the conversation, but I didn’t let him.
“Yes, Jameson, I do. I just-I didn’t know you felt that way.”
Standing in the hull of the boat, he was looking up at me, doing an impressive job of maintaining his balance.
Quietly, as if still taken aback by our conversation, he openly confessed, “I do, Jocelyn.”
He held out his hand, offering me a stable way down to him, which I took, our hands never releasing once inside the boat.
As we crossed the waterway to Jameson's parent's shack, I remained stupefied by our brazenly honest admissions. I knew he was affected by it too. The look on his face and the tension in his shoulders gave it away.
Over the course of those days, I felt like we had been given a reprieve by the Vires, even while anxiously waiting on the news of another prison being annihilated. We knew an attack was inevitable, and when I wasn’t thinking about Jameson, I was battling the guilt I felt for being the precursor to another round of lives being lost. News of it finally came while I was seeing the wounded, an evening practice I established with Isadora. We had just left the last shack on Isadora’s list when Jameson and Theleo landed in front of us, their descent causing the dock to rattle beneath our feet.
Theleo escorting Jameson was an anomaly, so whatever had brought them to us was out of the ordinary - and urgent. I knew immediately that something was wrong.
As Theleo began to speak, Jameson and I looked at each other and the vigilance in our eyes conveyed everything I needed to know before Theleo finished.
“Great Britain. Almost entirely decimated. The Vires spent days there, returning in sporadic flights.”
I sighed, feeling the pain of their suffering in my heart. Memories of New York - where infants were pressed to their mother’s chests and the elderly had collapsed in pain against the trunks of trees - entered my thoughts, and I found my teeth grinding together as I suppressed another wave of guilt coursing through me. “Their Officer told you?”
Jameson confirmed it. “He’s at my place.”
I gave Isadora a silent confirmation that our visitations were over, which she acknowledged by gesturing for Theleo to take me. He did and we reached Jameson’s shack in seconds.
The Dissenters’ Officer to the Vire prison in Great Britain approached me as I came into view, his gangly limbs carrying him across the dock in haste and his English accent reaching me before there was solid ground beneath my feet.
“Relicuum,” he said. Noticing my surprised reaction, he continued, “Yes, I know who you are. Word of you is spreading.” After making that clarification, he returned to the business at hand. “My name is William Harrison. We were attacked three days ago…” he paused before admitting, “It may still be continuing. And we need your help.”
Jameson stiffened. “You believe we’ll find Vires there?”
William looked at him, grimly. “It’s very possible.”
As I watched Jameson begin to frown, I interrupted before he finished his assessment of the dangers. Otherwise, I was certain he’d find a way to keep me here. “Great Britain’s a long way. We shouldn’t waste any more time.”
“Agreed,” said William, firmly.
Picking up on Jameson's hesitation, Theleo inquired, “Jameson…?”
“Oh…,” he chuckled. “I’m coming.”
“As am I,” said Theleo, stepping forward with resolve.
Of course, I knew Theleo’s reasoning for accompanying us. He was one of the
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