The Host (The Host 1)

Chapter 50: Sacrificed

The Seeker scrutinized my face while Mel and I fought.

No, Wanda, no!

Don't be stupid, Mel. You of all people should see the potential of this choice. Isn't this what you want?

But even as I tried to look at the happy ending, I couldn't escape the horror of this choice. This was the secret I should die to protect. The information I'd been desperate to keep safe no matter what hideous torture I was put through.

This was not the kind of torture I'd expected: a personal crisis of conscience, confused and complicated by love for my human family. Very painful, nevertheless.

I could not claim to be an expatriate if I did this. No, I would be purely a traitor.

Not for her, Wanda! Not for her! Mel howled.

Should I wait? Wait until they catch another soul? An innocent soul whom I have no reason to hate? I'll have to make the decision sometime.

Not now! Wait! Think about this!

My stomach rolled again, and I had to hunch my body forward and take a deep breath. I just managed not to gag.

"Wanda?" Jeb called in concern.

I could do it, Mel. I could justify letting her die if she was one of those innocent souls. I could let them kill her then. I could trust myself to make an objective decision.

But she's horrible, Wanda! We hate her!

Exactly. And I can't trust myself. Look at how I almost didn't see the answer. . .

"Wanda, you all right?"

The Seeker glared past me, toward Jeb's voice.

"Fine, Jeb," I gasped. My voice was breathy, strained. I was surprised at how bad it sounded.

The Seeker's dark eyes flickered between us, unsure. Then she recoiled from me, cringing into the wall. I recognized the pose-remembered exactly how it felt to hold it.

A gentle hand came down on my shoulder and spun me around.

"What's going on with you, hon?" Jeb asked.

"I need a minute," I told him breathlessly. I looked straight into his faded-denim eyes and told him something that was most definitely not a lie. "I have one more question. But I really need a minute to myself. Can you. . . wait for me?"

"Sure, we can wait a little while more. Take a breather. "

I nodded and walked as quickly as I could from the prison. My legs were stiff with terror at first, but I found my stride as I moved. By the time I passed Aaron and Brandt, I was almost running.

"What happened?" I heard Aaron whisper to Brandt, his voice bewildered.

I wasn't sure where to hide while I thought. My feet, like a shuttle on automatic pilot, took me through the corridors toward my sleeping room. I could only hope that it would be empty.

It was dark, barely any light from the stars trickling down through the cracked ceiling. I didn't see Lily till I tripped over her in the darkness.

I almost didn't recognize her tear-swollen face. She was curled into a tight, tiny ball on the floor in the middle of the passageway. Her eyes were wide, not quite comprehending who I was.

"Why?" she asked me.

I stared at her wordlessly.

"I said that life and love go on. But why do they? They shouldn't. Not anymore. What's the point?"

"I don't know, Lily. I'm not sure what the point is. "

"Why?" she asked again, not speaking to me anymore. Her glassy eyes looked right through me.

I stepped carefully past her and hurried to my room. I had my own question that had to be answered.

To my great relief, the room was empty. I threw myself facedown on the mattress where Jamie and I slept.

When I'd told Jeb I had one more question, that was the truth. But the question was not for the Seeker. The question was for me.

The question was would I-not could I-do it?

I could save the Seeker's life. I knew how. It would not endanger any of the lives here. Except my own. I would have to trade that.

No. Melanie tried to be firm through her panic.

Please let me think.

No.

This is the thing, Mel. It's inevitable anyway. I can see that now. I should have seen it long ago. It's so obvious.

No, it isn't.

I remembered our conversation when Jamie was ill. When we were making up. I'd told her that I wouldn't erase her and that I was sorry that I couldn't give her more than that.

It wasn't so much a lie as it was an unfinished sentence. I couldn't give her more than that-and stay alive myself.

The actual lie had been given to Jared. I'd told him, just seconds later, that I didn't know how to make myself not exist. In the context of our discussion, it was true. I didn't know how to fade away, here inside Melanie. But I was surprised I hadn't heard the obvious lie right then, hadn't seen in that moment what I was seeing now. Of course I knew how to make myself not exist.

It was just that I had never considered that option viable, ultimate betrayal that it was to every soul on this planet.

Once the humans knew that I had this answer, the one they had murdered for over and over again, it would cost me.

No, Wanda!

Don't you want to be free?

A long pause.

I wouldn't ask you for this, she finally said. And I wouldn't do it for you. And I sure as hell wouldn't do it for the Seeker!

You don't have to ask. I think I might have volunteered. . . eventually.

Why do you think that? she demanded, her tone close to a sob. It touched me. I expected her to be elated.

In part because of them. Jared and Jamie. I can give them the whole world, everything they want. I can give them you. I probably would have realized that. . . someday. Who knows? Maybe Jared would have asked. You know I wouldn't have said no.

Ian's right. You're too self-sacrificing. You don't have any limits. You need limits, Wanda!

Ah, Ian, I moaned. A new pain twisted through me, surprisingly close to my heart.

You'll take the whole world away from him. Everything he wants.

It would never work with Ian. Not in this body, even though he loves it. It doesn't love him.

Wanda, I. . . Melanie struggled for words. Still, the joy I expected from her did not come. Again, this touched me. I don't think I can let you do this. You're more important than that. In the bigger picture, you are of much more value to them than I am. You can help them; you can save them. I can't do any of that. You have to stay.

I can't see any other way, Mel. I wonder how I didn't see it sooner. It seems so completely obvious. Of course I have to go. Of course I have to give you yourself back. I already knew we souls were wrong to come here. So I don't have any choice now but to do the right thing, and leave. You all survived without me before; you'll do it again. You've learned so much about the souls from me-you'll help them. Can't you see? This is the happy ending. It's the way they all need the story to finish. I can give them hope. I can give them. . . not a future. Maybe not that. But as much as I can. Everything I can.

No, Wanda, no.

She was crying, becoming incoherent. Her sorrow brought tears to my eyes. I'd no idea that she cared so much for me. Almost as much as I cared for her. I hadn't realized that we loved each other.

Even if Jared had never asked me for this, even if Jared did not exist. . . Once this path had occurred to me, I would have had to proceed down it. I loved her that much.

No wonder the success rate for resistant hosts was so low here on Earth. Once we learned to love our human host, what hope did we souls have? We could not exist at the expense of one we loved. Not a soul. A soul could not live that way.

I rolled myself over and, in the starlight, I looked at my body.

My hands were dirty and scratched, but under the surface blemishes, they were beautiful. The skin was a pretty sun-browned color; even bleached in the pale light, it was pretty. The nails were chewed short but still healthy and smooth, with little half mo

ons of white at the bases. I fluttered my fingers, watching the muscles pull the bones in graceful patterns. I let them dance above me, where they became black fluid shapes against the stars.

I ran them through my hair. It was almost to my shoulders now. Mel would like that. After a few weeks of shampoo in hotel showers and Health vitamins, it was glossy and soft again.

I stretched my arms out as far as they would go, tugging against the tendons until some of my joints cracked. My arms felt strong. They could pull me up a mountainside, they could carry a heavy load, they could plow a field. But they were also soft. They could hold a child, they could comfort a friend, they could love. . . but that was not for me.

I took a deep breath, and tears welled out of the corners of my eyes and rolled down my temples into my hair.

I tensed the muscles in my legs, felt their ready strength and speed. I wanted to run, to have an open field that I could race across just to see how fast I could go. I wanted to do this barefoot, so I could feel the earth beneath my feet. I wanted to feel the wind fly through my hair. I wanted it to rain, so that I could smell it in the air as I ran.

My feet flexed and pointed slowly, to the rhythm of my breathing. In and out. Flex and point. It felt nice.