"I cannot see you. I'm afraid that. That. That. Portion of my circuitry has incurred dam. Dam. Dam."
"It was damaged," I whisper.
"It was that stray shot from the tazegun. Miesha saw me. Disabled. She was. She was distracted. That's when they grabbed her. Is she all right?"
"Yes," I lie. "She's fine. What happened to you?"
"Car. They swerved. To hit me. They. I cannot see you. I'm afraid that. That. That. Portion of my circuitry has incurred dam. Dam. Dam."
"Yes, I know. It was damaged," I say again.
"Correct. But you are free?"
"Yes, Dot. Because of you, I'm free. What should I--"
"Mission accomplished. Your success is. Is. Isss."
I hear a pop, and smoke seeps from the opening in her neck. There are no more words, only silence and her sightless stare into the sky. Her jewel blue sky. I stand and pick her up. Broken bits of her fall away, but I carry the bulk of her to my room and lay her on my bed.
Chapter 74
The next two weeks go by in a blur. We bury Dot beneath a tree near the greenhouse. We give her a marker with her name--the full proper name she chose and the title she deserved too. Officer Dot Jefferson, Liberator.
Miesha still hasn't wakened. Jenna says the tazegun was set to kill rather than stun and that Miesha is lucky to be alive. She doesn't know when or if she will wake. Kayla doesn't mind when I tuck one of her stuffed animals under Miesha's arm. It is a small blue elephant that is missing one eye. I check on her each day before I go outside to work and again when I return.
I have finished the stone wall for the herb garden, fixed Jenna's sagging porch, and dug more trenches. I work from morning until the last light of day is gone. I work alongside Bone and the others getting the field ready to plant. They don't talk. Neither do I. When I run out of trenches to dig, I wish there were more.
The blisters. The sweat. It is all good. But sometimes it is not enough, and my mind wanders anyway. Miesha might not have been hurt if I hadn't left her alone, but if I hadn't left her, Kayla might be dead. If I had snapped Gatsbro's neck when I had the chance. If I had loved Kara more ...
There are a million different directions life can take. When my mind tries to wander in one of those directions, I dig twice as fast, pound twice as hard, and haul twice the rocks.
Even then, when sweat is stinging the scratches on my face and hands, when my back aches from lifting rocks, when every part of me feels so human I want to scream, I see Kara's eyes, whatever was left of her, letting go, whatever was left of her wanting a last bit of control over her destiny, I see her floating away because something inside of her had already died. The nights are different. Even with all the work, I still can't sleep, so after Kayla has gone to bed, Jenna and I walk, and we talk.
"I loved her, Jenna. But never in the way she needed. Never with everything inside of me. It was never enough to bring her back."
"She was gone, Locke. I saw that the minute I looked into her eyes, but I didn't want to believe it, either. There was nothing you could have done. I don't know when it happened or how it happened, but she was gone."
"She told me we were dead. That we were just memories housed in look-alike bodies."
"That may have been true of her, Locke, but not you."
"How can you know? Maybe the real Locke is gone too. I've had thoughts as dark as anything we ever saw in her."
"We all have a dark place in us. It's what we do with it and the choices we make." She reaches over and turns my face to hers. "The mercy you showed Gatsbro. The risk you took for Kayla. Your kindness to Dot. Your eyes. Your face. That's how I know. The real you is still here. My Bio Gel may not be BioPerfect, but it has years of experience at reading a face."
I need to hold on to that. Maybe we all have a dark place inside of us, a place where dark thoughts and darker dreams live, but it doesn't have to become who we are.
We walk around the pond, across the bridge, through the forest, down trails that lead nowhere and then back again. We walk in the dark, and we walk by starlight. We talk about our lives, our families, and the unexpected turns they all can take. But mostly we talk about Kara. We talk about all the befores. The stupid things we did. The funny things. The times she made us laugh. Sometimes we stop and hold each other, and we both cry. And then I imagine Kara there with us. Rolling her eyes. Hooking her arms in ours. Holding us too.
We tell some stories twice, three times, or more, so those memories are fresh. We tell stories so those memories will rise above our last days with her, so that is what we will remember when we think of Kara. Sometimes we sit at the edge of the pond and just listen to the silence. The moon plays tricks on the surface, and I see all of us from a distance. I watch three friends pointing at stars, three friends sitting in the dean's office, three friends dangling feet from a bridge and spouting poetry. We held hands. We crossed a line. We made one another braver. Three friends forever frozen in time.
Chapter 75
Today when I limp up the porch steps and collapse in the rocker, Jenna comes out on the porch and frowns.
"Do I smell that bad?"
"You can't keep doing this, Locke. Why are you working like a maniac? To prove to the world that you're human?"