The Liberator

35 Good-bye, Friend

Twelve hours later, after a grueling flight, little sleep, and bad food, Max, Aspen, and I wait on a private runway for our car. We may have left the Hive without a dime between us, but Max had his phone. And though Valery is none too pleased that Max came along, she did agree to make us accommodations once he explained what we needed.

I’m still thinking about the things Charlie said when a black sedan pulls up. I hope she knows I’m doing this for her.

Inside the car, Aspen shifts in the leather seat, bringing me out of my head. She works her necklace between her fingers and watches me. She’s waiting for some kind of direction, but I have nothing to give her.

“So,” she says. “Alaska.”

I shrug.

“I thought it’d be somewhere hot.” Aspen glances at Max, hoping she’ll have more luck digging information out of him. But he doesn’t look at her. He’s lost in thought, and I don’t have to guess who he’s thinking about. Or what color her hair is.

I don’t want to talk. I just want to let my stomach eat itself. But Aspen has done something phenomenal. She’s volunteered to go on this soul-stealing mission whether it’s a good idea or not, and I feel like I owe her my attention.

“We’ll be there in a couple of hours,” I say. “It takes time to drive in this kind of weather.”

Aspen looks outside the window. Snow flurries lash by us in a strange war dance. The road is barely two lanes wide, and I can only really see the tracks where other tires have driven. Before long, that’ll be gone, too. Then we’ll be on snowmobiles.

“I would have thought we’d be somewhere hot,” Aspen repeats.

Exactly, I think. That’s why we’re here instead.

Before long, the driver stops the car. He gets out and pops the trunk. Then he gets back in and hands us thermal wear and heavy jackets. As he tosses a red beanie to me, I wonder how much he knows about what we’re doing out here.

Next to nothing.

They never know anything. But then again, that’s the luxury money affords you. Pay someone enough, and they won’t ask questions. Sometimes I see a familiar face, but the end result is always the same: car, snowmobiles, no questions.

When Max and I step outside, the snow bites at my exposed skin. There isn’t much of it considering I’m wearing two layers of heavy-duty winter clothing, snow goggles, a stocking cap, and gloves. Aspen finishes changing in the car and steps outside. Though the wind howls, I can still hear her gasp from the sudden change in temperature.

“It won’t be for long,” I yell. Then I nod toward the three red-and-black snowmobiles. Max shakes hands with one of the snowmobile drivers. Aspen and I stomp over as the guys pass us and jump inside the sedan, the chains on the snow tires clinking as the car pulls away. I give Aspen a quick rundown of how to work the snowmobile. She nods her head and hugs her arms around her waist.

Max checks something in the storage area behind the seat and gives me a thumbs-up. I know what he was checking for, but I don’t want to think about it. Not yet.

I glance at Aspen and cock my head forward. She gets on her snowmobile and tugs on a helmet. I can see her body shaking, but I’m not sure whether it’s from the cold or something else.

After pulling on my own helmet, my right thumb squeezes the throttle, and we’re off.

I lean into turns and barely notice the numbness snaking over my body. I don’t have to ask for directions. Neither does Max. We’d know the way with closed eyes and frostbitten balls. Every time I catch Aspen driving in my peripheral vision, my stomach flutters. This was a mistake, I can’t help thinking. She shouldn’t be here.

But then I remember what she said at the Hive, about this being the reason I was assigned to her, the reason she’s so important to Big Guy. So I focus on that. And I think about Charlie. I try to keep them both suspended in my mind. It helps.

At least until I see it—

The entrance to hell.

Max and I turn our snowmobiles to the right and ease off the throttle. Then we dismount and head into the forest with Aspen at our heels. The first time I had to find the tree, the white spruce among all the others, I imagined I’d never make my way back to it. There are no distinguishing marks. Nothing that says, I am the one to take you there. But trust me when I say once you know it’s the one, it’s hard to unknow it.

Snow climbs to just beneath our knees, and we’re breathing hard by the time we arrive. With tall trees coated in frothy white powder and the ground glittering beneath our feet, it really does feel like Christmas. Guess it’s high time to spread a little holiday cheer in hell.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Aspen shouts over the wind. “Are you guys going to bury me out here?”

I toss a smile her way even though I’m not feeling it. I remember the first time I returned to this place on my own. It was like having a dentist appointment that you know would be painful and going, anyway. It’s like that times a million.

We stop in front of the tree. It’s easily eighty feet tall and reminds me of a Christmas tree every time I see it. I’m sure Lucille finds this wildly amusing. Aspen gazes upward and runs her hand over the sharp needles. Her fingers extend out from orange gloves.

Did she sleep with them on last night?

I think about telling her she should take my gloves so she doesn’t get frostbite. But she won’t need the warmth for much longer.

Max reaches into the back of his pants and pulls out a short blade. It’s what he was checking for on the snowmobile. Valery remembered everything Max asked for. Though I bet this part of the instructions made her particularly nervous.

My best friend hands the knife to me. Just like the tree, it isn’t anything special—a four-inch blade with a wood handle.

Blood surges through my veins as I angle the knife toward my inner arm. Aspen gasps.

“Wait,” Max says. “How are you going to do it?”

I let the knife drop to my side and put a hand on his shoulder. “You and I, we know every corner. It’ll be easier than you think because no one would ever dare try what I’m going to do. Lucille’s arrogance is his Achilles heel.”

Max knows this is true but doesn’t want to let it go. He pulls me into a hug so quickly I almost stab him in the leg. I throw my free arm around him, and my chest aches. My best friend has done so much for me. He’s risked his cuff to leave the collectors and be with me and Red, and he’s risked it again by coming here. I wish I’d made more time to hang out with him over the last few days. I only hope I can show him how much I care about our friendship when I get back. If I get back. I may talk a big game, but I know I may never see this part of earth again. And that includes Max.

“Get off me, leech,” I tell him, wiping a hand across my eyes. “Just wait with the snowmobiles. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Max studies the snow beneath his boots.

When I bring the knife to my arm this time, I don’t hesitate. I drag the blade across my inner left forearm until a dark trail of blood rises up. Turning my arm over, I let the blood drip onto the base of the tree. Then I hand the knife to Aspen.

“Left arm,” I tell her. Even this part I want to protect her from. But I know I have to let her do this without help, because it’ll only get worse from here on out.

Aspen closes her eyes, grits her teeth, and copies what I did. Then she turns her arm over. Her blood sprinkles across the snow, staining it red. Max backs up and holds my gaze.

Beneath the tree, the ground splits apart.

There’s a loud rumbling as a black hole spreads out from the roots. It swallows the blood-stained snow as a flesh offering and yawns open. I rush to Aspen’s side and pull her away from the black void. She’s holding her chin high, but I see the way her hands clench into fists.

“You can stay,” I tell her. “Max can take you back.”

“No,” she says. “I’m doing this.” I don’t know where her resolve stems from, but I accept her answer and move away. Aspen peers over the lip of the opening and sees the descending stairs. “It’s an actual place,” she says. “Hell is here on earth.”

“Of course.” I ease myself down onto the first step and turn toward her. “Last chance, Aspen. You don’t have to do this.”

Her gaze shifts to Max before landing back on me. Determination rages in her eyes, so I offer my hand, and she steps down beside me.

Max moves closer. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he says unexpectedly. “I can’t be a collector while she’s a liberator. At some point I’m going to have to take a risk like you guys are.”

I don’t know why he’s telling me this now. But it’s almost like he wants me to know on the off chance that I don’t come back. I glance at his cuff. He means he wants to remove it. He wants to break off the dargon and see if Big Guy accepts him so that he can be with Valery.

“Not yet, champ,” I say. “Wait until I get back. Then we can do it together.”

The line between his eyes relaxes. He smiles.

I lift my hand in a wave.

He flips me off, and I laugh.

Then he turns and heads back toward the snowmobiles. There are so many unsaid things between us. He, more than anyone, knows what Aspen and I are about to face. I watch him walk away, bringing his knees up high to avoid stumbling in the snow.

Aspen squeezes my arm, and I turn my attention to the stairs.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

Aspen lets go of me and begins the descent. I follow after her. The ground closes over our heads. Snow drops down as the earth seals tight, sizzling against the ground.

When I hear the first moan of agony, I know it’s real.

I’ve come home to hell.