After walking in silence for a little while and making sure we weren't about to be spotted by any patrols on the distant road, I found myself speaking up while glancing toward the figure I could barely see next to me. “You know, every time I look at you, I feel like everything in my life is wrong.”
Even in the darkness, I could see the way she flinched, her head turning to look away while she took a few more silent steps before speaking finally. “I'm sorry you were forced to come out here like this. If there was another choice--”
“No,” I interrupted, “that's not what I meant. I’m not talking about being mad at you for all that… stuff. Well sure, those still aren’t happy memories or anything, but not that. What I mean is, when I look at you it makes me remember that I shouldn't have experienced anything like that. Neither of us should’ve. Those things should never have happened, and you shouldn’t have been taken by the Banners in the first place, because I should've been able to remember you. I should've been able to help you. You know, like you asked for when the authorities picked you up after those guys were found dead in that alley. You told them to find me, and that I could help you.”
There was another moment of silence while Paige stopped walking. She looked down at her feet and seemed to be processing that before quietly pointing out, “It’s not your fault. I knew you wouldn’t remember me. I saw them take your memories. I just--” She gave a soft sigh of regret. “I was scared right then. I was afraid, and alone, and… and that’s why I said Cassidy. But when they asked me for a last name, I remembered that you didn’t know me anymore.”
We really needed to start walking again, but something the other girl had said struck me. “You said--you said you saw them take my memories. That’s the same thing Sierra said while we were inside the virtual version of my bedroom, back when she was Raige. My closet. You were in my closet when they--when Mr. Kent--” I stopped, grimacing at the knot that twisted its way through my stomach. “That's where your core was, because that’s the spot--the moment where you thought you could've made everything better if you did something different, if you had shown yourself.”
“If I interrupted them. If I stopped them.” Paige’s voice was quiet. “If I saved you from having your memory erased. Yeah, I could have shown myself, could have told them the truth right then. The two of us could have shown them that you were getting better. And if they didn't listen, I could have gotten you out of that room until they changed their minds.”
“No you couldn’t,” I informed her. “That last part, I mean. Come on, Paige, think about it. My dad was there, right? He's Silversmith. Do you really think you could have gotten very far dragging me with you if he was on our tails? I think that’s a bit much to ask even for a twelve-year-old super-ninja-cyborg girl. Especially on his home turf. As for the other part, if you showed yourself and tried to talk to them… I dunno. I like to think that wiping my memory wasn't an easy decision for them, which could mean it would be really hard to talk them out of it once they committed to it. Or maybe that would make it really easy. I'm not sure. It's not like that's a decision I've had to make myself.”
Kicking the dirt, I gestured. “Come on, we need to keep moving.” Once we were underway again, I continued. “Maybe you could have stopped them from taking my memories. But that's a pretty big maybe. And after that, then what?”
“Then I could have told them the truth,” she replied while matching my pace. “I could have told them everything about my father straight up instead of going through Robert Parsons. He’s the one I sent the messages to about what dear old Father was doing so they could stop him. Dad-- Pittman wanted to take your brother and turn him into…” She trailed off, grimacing. “He wanted to turn him into something like me, something he could control, then send him back and make him murder you. Then confess in public that he killed you because you were going to tell the police about the Ministry. He wanted to kill one of the Evans’ children, turn him into a Biolem, make that Biolem kill their other child, and then expose all their secrets to the whole world while they were still reeling.”
I’d heard all that before, of course. But still, being reminded of it made me pause and grimace at the ground for a moment before quickly moving to catch up while she kept walking. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this yet, Paige, but Benjamin Pittman is a real fucking piece of work.”
She snorted humorlessly, her fist tightening. “Tell me about it. I told Parsons about that plan, or most of it, as much as I could. That's why your parents took care of Pittman in the first place, it’s what put them on his trail.”
“But uhh--” I hesitated, unsure of how to ask the next bit. “Why isn't he dead? I mean, it seems weird that my parents would find out Pittman wanted to do all that and they’d just send him to prison. It feels like their first and last plan for dealing with that would basically be a gunshot to the head. And maybe two more just to be sure.” I swallowed hard, before forcing the next words out reluctantly. “Do… do you think they wanted to keep him around just in case? He’s a piece of shit, but look what he built. Look what he’s capable of. Do you think they deliberately kept him alive just in case they could find a way to use him--use that? Like, putting him in a box somewhere until they were ready to deal with him instead of just throwing him out.”
“You mean do I think they saw the potential in what they might be able to get out of his power and kept him alive even though he was a direct threat to you and your brother?” Paige’s voice cracked slightly before she finished. Then she sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I wish I did. I thought they’d kill him. I wanted them to kill him. But they didn’t, they had him arrested instead. And that gave him time to realize I was the only one who could have betrayed him. He managed to get a phone in his cell and used that to send word to some of his people and give them new orders. A few of them found me. Those were the ones I killed. It was me or them. But they started to use shutdown codes on me. Not enough, I didn’t let them get all the way through the commands. But they got through enough of them to… to make me lock up a bit. I had to restart, so I couldn’t run away after I… after I broke them. The people who found us in the alley thought I was catatonic.”
I took all that in, processing it. “So you realized the Ministry only arrested your father instead of killing him, that he knew you betrayed him and sent people who had command codes to shut you down, and then by the time your system restarted, the Seraph people had you all ‘safe.’ No wonder you tried to ask for help. No wonder you--” I exhaled heavily, kicking a rock along through the weeds. “No wonder you asked for me. And yeah, yeah, I know what you said about me not remembering and all that. But still. I wish I did. I wish I could’ve been there to stop all that from happening.”
The two of us were quiet for another few minutes while we continued on our way. As we neared our destination (according to Paige since I still had no idea where we were) I spoke again. “But how did that lead to you being with the Banners? And… and all that extra programming he had to give you for how you were supposed to treat me.” My voice sounded a bit hollow at the end, before I forcefully cleared my throat. “One of his people got to you in the Seraphs' place, didn’t they?”
Paige nodded, looking away from me. “They must have. It’s the only explanation. But my memory of that bit is--it’s fuzzy. Whoever he sent did some real deep work on me. I remember trying to fight them but getting shut down, then… then just a lot of tests. They kept turning me on and off, checking different commands, reinforcing them, that sort of thing. It took weeks, apparently, because… because he was on Breakwater by the time it was over. When his people finally brought me out of it, they told me just what Pittman wanted and how he was going to get it. They made sure I couldn’t warn you or anyone else, that I was--they covered their bases as much as they could. Then they brought the Banners in to go over some of the commands. Not all of them, just enough to keep me under control.”
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It was my turn to flinch. “You were alone. Your hail mary play, betraying your own dad to save my life ended with them arresting him instead of killing him, which gave him time to have you reprogrammed to be back under his control so he could sell you to some rich fucks who didn’t care about you, all to pass the time until you could be in the right position to kill me yourself just to help the same revenge plot you tried to stop in the first place. And then you had to spend the next five years treating me like shit, to make killing me believable, even though you went through all that in the first place just to save my life.”
Saying all that outloud made me start to actually realize just how bad it had been for Paige. But even then, it wasn't until I made another comparison in my head that I really understood. Or at least came as close to it as possible. What if my parents had taken Izzy away, erased her memories of me, and then forced me to bully her and treat her like shit for years just to work toward a moment when I was supposed to kill her? That was basically what Paige had gone through, from what I understood.
I still didn't have my memories back. I still couldn't remember being friends with her when we were little. But I knew that she remembered those times. I could imagine what they were like, which meant I could imagine how bad it would feel to go through what she did, and how hard it had been to do the things she’d been forced to do. Obviously I couldn't really know what that was like. I couldn’t experience it the same way. But imagining it was bad enough. And far more than I wanted to think about.
“Paige,” I found myself saying, stopping short without thinking about it.
“We’re almost there,” she started, gesturing ahead. “Just a little bit more over the ridge this--what?”
“I don’t know if I said this before, but I should have.” I was reflexively staring at the ground, but I made myself look up. She deserved that much. Meeting the other girl’s gaze as much as I could in the darkness, I continued. “I know that what happened between us wasn’t your fault. What you did--what your father made you do--the way he made you… for all that time wasn’t your choice. It wasn’t you, so you don’t need me to forgive you. There’s no point to being forgiven for something you couldn’t control anyway. It wasn’t your fault. I know that now. I understand it. But just in case it helps even a little bit, I do. I do forgive you for everything. Sorry if that sounds dumb.”
A few extremely long, silent seconds passed while Paige remained almost disturbingly motionless. I was almost afraid that she’d lost power or had to be reset or something. Finally, she spoke, her voice sounding odd and somewhat hoarse. “It doesn’t sound dumb.”
The two of us were motionless for a moment, before I took a step that way. My hand found hers. It was stiff at first, but relaxed as I took hold of it. Our fingers interlocked and I pulled her into a hug. There, in the darkness, the two of us embraced silently. After several long seconds, we let go and stepped back, as Paige spoke in that same hoarse voice. “Thanks, Cassie. You didn’t have to--your parents are sick because of--”
“Because of him,” I interrupted. “And so is your sister. That’s why we’re out here. Because we’re gonna do something about it, together. He’s the problem, and we’re gonna deal with him. He doesn’t get to control, or ruin, either of our lives any more. Not after this.”
Paige stared back at me through the darkness for a moment, before giving a nod that I just barely made out. “Yeah. Not after this. So come on.” She turned once more, pointing to the hill ahead of us. “The truck should be right over there.”
“Who are these guys you convinced to do this, anyway?” I asked while jogging a few steps to catch up. “And when I say that, what I mean is--”
“Is there any chance they could be connected to Pittman?” she finished for me before shaking her head. We had crossed the hill by that point, and I saw the green minivan waiting nestled right up against it. There was a small, almost invisible dirt road that I assumed led back to the freeway in that direction, while continuing on the other way out into who knew where.
“It’s a maintenance road for a power station,” Paige informed me when she saw the way I was looking. “Anyway, the guys I hired for this don't have any connection to my--to Pittman. They live in Cleveland, I’ve used them for a couple other things over the years. They’re discrete and they know how to provide tools. This was a cakerun for them. Believe me, I vetted these guys before I ever did anything with them. Would I trust them with any of our identities? Hell no. But they're professional enough to do the job they're paid for.” She paused briefly before starting to walk around the van. “That said, it doesn't hurt to be safe. Stay there for a minute so I can check this thing out and make sure they didn't ‘accidentally’ leave any surprises.”
So, I stood out of the way and watched while she went over that vehicle with a fine-tooth comb. That included crawling underneath to check everything there, as well as examining every inch of the interior, going over the engine, and running some sort of scan on the electronics after plugging into the vehicle's computer. Finally, she nodded to me. “We're good. They just left a gift basket.” Before I could question what sort of criminal slang that was, she reached into the van and pulled out a literal gift basket with various candies and fruit inside, holding it out to me. “See, I told you they were professional. Even left a card.”
Sure enough, there was a card on the basket, which read, ‘Happy Getaway!’ It was honestly a little surreal. But, given the situation we were in, it still made me smile just a bit. Which was nice.
Taking a chocolate bar out and unwrapping it, I pushed a piece into my mouth before offering some to the other girl. “How about we get on the road before that sun comes up? How long did you say the drive to this place is supposed to be?”
“Twenty-five hours total,” she replied. “We’ll have to break it into two days. I could keep going for longer, and you can sleep in the van, but I think we’ll need to be rested when we get there. No telling what sort of defenses he’s got set up around the place. I’ll drive for twenty hours, then we can rest for a bit and regroup before going the rest of the way.”
“You know, I can drive too,” I pointed out while walking around to get in the passenger side.
Paige just stared at me for a long moment while I was getting settled before flatly replying, “If we get pulled over, I’m the one with the drivers license. And even if you did have a fake one, any cop who sees you behind the wheel is going to take a much closer look than we want them to.” As soon as she said that, the girl flinched a little. “I mean… sorry.” With a sigh, she added, “I didn't mean it to come off like that. It's just--”
“Don’t worry, I get it.” Shrugging, I clicked my seatbelt into place. “I get to take advantage of the fact that I look smaller than I should to hide my identity as Paintball, but these are the times when it bites me in the ass. Gotta take the good with the bad.”
After saying all that, I took another bite of chocolate. Because I deserved that, damn it.
Paige started up the van and pulled out to drive along that dirt road back toward the freeway. We were both silent for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts until the van stopped bouncing along the rocks and dirt and made it onto smooth asphalt. We had both been tensely watching for anyone to intercept us, but the coast this far away from the blockades was clear. Soon, we were cruising south at a steady eighty miles per hour. Settling back in my seat, I looked out the window as we caught up with traffic. We were just another vehicle on the freeway like any other, totally anonymous. The two of us, alone in a van, for at least the next solid day.
“Hey, Paige,” I started after I had worked up my nerve enough. “I know things between us are weird. And I know this is going to be uncomfortable, even… even sad. But you’re really the only one I can ask.”
I fell silent then, but she didn’t prompt me or push. She just waited while I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and forced the next words out.
“Could you talk to me about Anthony?”