Promises Found

Tomas left the infirmary the following afternoon.

Bruises covered his arms and legs. His nose remained swollen, and one eye had turned an impressive shade of purple, but the institute physician had stopped the bleeding and cleared him to return to the dormitory.

Tomas told Dr. Vale and Harlan the same thing.

“I started it.”

Harlan folded his arms. “You entered their room carrying soap in a sock?”

“I started it in the cafeteria.”

“That isn’t the same thing.”

“It’s close enough.”

Tomas repeated it until arguing became pointless.

Harlan assigned Casey and the other boys a week of cafeteria duty. Bob received three days because he had barely participated.

Eli volunteered to join them.

He claimed scrubbing dishes did something to him.

Something quiet.

Something therapeutic.

Tomas didn’t ask questions.

After dinner, he limped through the residential wing.

Staff members watched him. Residents whispered as he passed.

This time, Tomas didn’t hug the wall.

He walked directly down the middle of the corridor.

His room had been cleaned. The blood had been scrubbed from the carpet, and both beds had been made with sharp corners.

Eli’s aloe plant sat on the windowsill, catching the last orange rays of the afternoon sun.

Tomas closed the curtains.

The colors were too honest.

“Sorry, little guy.”

He dropped into the chair at the shared desk. Eli’s positive-affirmation notes covered the surface.

KEEP GOING.

SILENCE ISN’T ABSENCE.

PARENTS AREN’T PROPHETS.

Tomas turned the last one facedown.

A small brown box sat in the center of the desk.

He hadn’t noticed it when he entered.

There was no mailing label.

No hospital sticker.

No indication of how it had gotten past the nurses, locked doors, and staff members stationed throughout the building.

Tomas picked it up and shook it.

Rattle.

Candy.

Probably.

He peeled away the tape.

Candy bars, gum, peanut butter cups, and packages of sour gummies filled the box. A card had been taped to a Snickers.

Everyone needs a care package.

Even jerks.

Thanks for saving my life.

—Red

Beneath the signature, two more words had been added.

Miss me?

Tomas spun around.

Red rested upright on the bed.

Not physically.

The red bookbag was translucent around the edges, as though someone had drawn him in light and forgotten to finish. Both straps were folded across his front. His zipper curved slightly upward.

Tomas stood.

“What are you doing here?”

Delivering a package.

Red tipped toward Tomas’s swollen eye.

I see you’ve been socializing.

“Soap in a sock.”

Who started it?

Tomas looked away. “I did.”

Red’s zipper straightened.

That isn’t what I wanted.

“I remember you telling me to be more aggressive.”

You think I wanted you to become Bryce? Or Coach Chad?

“I’m the bully now.”

Are you?

“I threw food at a kid because he reminded me of myself.”

Red went quiet.

Tomas nudged the candy box with one finger.

“I figured out I was a jerk before your note told me.”

Good.

“Good?”

Recognizing it means you can stop.

“That’s what Dr. Vale said.”

She sounds intelligent.

“She thinks I assign human personalities to objects when I’m under stress.”

She sounds like a moron.

Despite himself, Tomas smiled.

Red extended one translucent strap toward the candy box. It passed through the cardboard without moving it.

This matters.

“The candy?”

What you do with it.

“Hope in chocolate form?”

Exactly.

Tomas picked up a peanut butter cup and tossed it toward Red.

It passed through the bookbag and bounced against the mattress.

Tomas frowned.

He reached out.

His hand passed through Red’s canvas. The image rippled around his fingers like light reflected on water.

“You aren’t really here.”

Not physically.

“Am I dreaming?”

No.

“Hallucinating?”

Also no.

“The doctor says—”

You are not assigning traits to an object. You are seeing what is actually here.

Tomas pulled his hand back.

“People see what they want to see.”

Or refuse to see what they cannot accept.

“That explains everyone else. It doesn’t explain this.”

Red’s loose thread drifted without any wind touching it.

My world is brushing against yours. You’re seeing the place where the two overlap.

“Why here?”

Because I needed to say goodbye.

The small smile left Tomas’s face.

“You already left.”

Courtney and I had seconds. The police were entering. If they arrested her or locked me in an evidence room, we might have lost our chance to cross.

“You couldn’t say anything?”

Goodbyes are difficult when people are pointing guns.

“You raised your strap.”

I tried.

Tomas looked toward the closed curtains.

“It felt like you abandoned me.”

I know.

“Then my mother let Rook take me.”

I know.

“Twelve days, Red.”

I counted them too.

Tomas swallowed.

“Why didn’t you come sooner?”

It took time to reopen the connection from this side. Whole does not mean all-powerful.

The spectral bookbag leaned slightly toward him.

Leaving forced you to learn something without me. But that is not why I left. I would not have chosen this lesson for you.

“What was I supposed to learn?”

That I could give you power, but I could never make you brave.

Tomas looked down at his bruised hands.

“I threw spaghetti at Bob.”

Bravery and wisdom are different lessons.

“I got beaten up by four kids.”

Three and a half. Bob barely touched you.

“He counts.”

Did you fight back?

“Yes.”

Did you need me?

Tomas hesitated.

“No.”

That was always the point. The stones have power. Your choices belong to you.

Tomas sat on the edge of Eli’s bed, leaving space between himself and Red’s translucent shape.

“You’re really going home?”

I am home.

The words hurt.

“Will I ever see you again?”

Red’s zipper curved.

Dimensions touch more often than people realize.

“That isn’t an answer.”

It is the only one I have.

Silence settled over the room.

Tomas removed Red’s card from the Snickers and slipped it into his pocket.

“You saved my life.”

You saved mine first.

“Goodbye, Red.”

The bookbag’s remaining strap lifted.

Goodbye, moron.

Tomas laughed once, although his eyes burned.

Red didn’t disappear.

Not yet.

Do you remember when I asked you to make a wish?

“You said you weren’t a genie.”

I’m not.

“I said that wasn’t how it worked.”

It isn’t.

Red’s zipper curved a little more.

But sometimes the right connection gets close enough.

“Close enough for what?”

Close your eyes.

Tomas hesitated.

What do you want?

The answer came immediately.

Not revenge.

Not for Rook to suffer.

Not for Blackridge to burn.

Freedom.

Tomas closed his eyes.

The room changed around him.

Not physically.

Something moved behind it.

A second place pressed against the walls. Light without a source. Distance that couldn’t be measured. A universe folding quietly against his own.

The air grew thin.

When Tomas opened his eyes, Red was gone.

The box remained.

So did the peanut butter cup on the bed.

The room looked exactly the same.

Yet it no longer felt solid.

Tomas stood and opened the door.

A nurse walked past.

She looked directly at him.

Her gaze slipped away without concern, as though Tomas belonged in the hallway at that hour.

He walked toward the front desk.

Two staff members discussed medication schedules without acknowledging him. Harlan emerged from an office carrying a clipboard. His eyes passed over Tomas and continued down the corridor.

Tomas stopped at the desk.

He placed the candy box beside the telephone and found a blank sheet of paper.

Bob—

I was a jerk.

This doesn’t fix it, but you deserve the care package more than I do.

—Tomas

He folded the note and set it on top.

The security door waited at the end of the hall.

Locked.

Tomas approached.

A buzzer sounded.

The lock released.

He pushed the door open.

No alarm followed.

The lobby beyond it was empty except for a half-finished cup of coffee and a clipboard. The front doors opened when Tomas stepped onto the pressure mat.

Cold night air struck his face.

Freedom.

He crossed the parking lot and reached the road.

The darkness stretched in both directions.

No headlights.

No engines.

Nothing but wind moving through the trees.

Still, Tomas waited.

Red had said close enough.

Tomas closed his eyes and pictured the road.

Not where it ended.

Only the chance to take it.

A faint smell of cinnamon drifted through the night.

An engine roared somewhere beyond the hill.

Tomas smiled before opening his eyes.

Headlights appeared over the rise.

A truck raced toward him.

The driver slammed on the brakes. Tires screamed, and the rear end swung sideways before the truck stopped beside him.

The passenger door flew open.

“Get in!”

Tomas stepped away from the road.

No panic.

No fear.

He climbed into the truck and closed the door.

Kay stomped on the gas. The tires spun before catching the asphalt.

Toby Keith blasted from the speakers.

Tomas fastened his seat belt.

“You know, I was starting to think I’d never see you again.”

Kay turned down the music.

“What were you doing standing outside?”

“What were you doing driving toward Blackridge with the truck from an action movie?”

“I came to rescue you.”

Tomas looked into the back seat.

A large red duffel bag occupied most of it.

“Is that what the bag is for?”

“No. The guns are in the bed.”

He twisted around.

Several heavy containers had been secured beneath a tarp.

“You brought a truck full of weapons?”

“I didn’t know how difficult Rook intended to make this.”

Tomas looked at her.

“Why did you leave me?”

Kay kept her eyes on the road.

“I knew where he was taking you.”

“That doesn’t answer me.”

“I couldn’t fight him at the airport. Too many deputies. Too many cameras. You were already shot. Half my people were wounded, and the other half had just watched my operation collapse.”

“So you let him win.”

“I let him think he won.”

“You didn’t call.”

“Rook monitors Blackridge. One phone call and he would’ve known I was still close.”

“Twelve days.”

Kay’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“I counted them too.”

Tomas looked through the passenger window.

“I thought you were done with me.”

“I was closing accounts. Paying everyone. Erasing anything Rook could use to find us once I got you out.”

“You could’ve told me.”

“No.” Her voice softened. “I couldn’t.”

The truck continued through the darkness.

Finally, Kay said, “I’m sorry.”

Tomas looked at her.

Kay Calder didn’t apologize often.

When she did, the words carried weight.

“I should’ve trusted you,” she continued. “At the hangar. Before that too.”

“I did bring a monster into a room full of people.”

“That was stupid.”

“I know.”

“You still saved us.”

“I know that too.”

Kay glanced at him.

“Smartass.”

“I learned from the best.”

A small smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Then she noticed his swollen eye.

“You’ve been fighting.”

“Yeah.”

“And now you’re starting them?”

Tomas touched the bruise.

“One.”

Kay nodded approvingly. “Good.”

“No.”

She looked at him again.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Tomas said. “He reminded me of who I used to be, and I hated him for it.”

Kay’s smile disappeared.

“You make it right?”

“I left him a note and a box of candy.”

“That ought to cover attempted murder.”

“It was spaghetti.”

“Gateway weapon.”

Tomas smiled despite himself.

“You look like you got into a fight too.”

Kay touched the bruise along her jaw.

“Some people weren’t thrilled when I announced the operation was finished.”

“You paid them?”

“Every last dollar they were owed.”

“And they accepted it?”

“Eventually.”

“Marleen?”

Kay smiled at the memory.

“Marleen never did like me.”

“She loves you.”

“I know. That’s why she punched me.”

“Did you hit her back?”

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Tomas rested his head against the seat.

“Where are we going?”

“Away.”

“Specific.”

“We’ll pick a direction when the sun comes up.”

“That what the red bag is for?”

Kay checked the mirror.

“That bag is our future.”

“Money?”

“Enough.”

“What about our past?”

“I paid every debt. Closed every route. Burned every record.” Kay paused. “The old family business is finished.”

Tomas looked toward the covered containers in the truck bed.

“You didn’t bring that much ammunition if you were planning to retire.”

“I brought it to get my son.”

“You could still teach me.”

“Teach you what?”

“The family business.”

Kay was quiet for several seconds.

“Not the old one.”

“There’s a new one?”

“There are people who have too much. People who don’t have enough. Sometimes things need to move from one group to the other.”

“That sounds illegal.”

“It probably will be.”

“So you are going to teach me.”

“I’m going to teach you how to help people.”

“With crime.”

“With flexibility.”

Tomas smiled.

Kay glanced at the empty road behind them.

“I’m only asking once. The thing with Red and the storm—is it over?”

Tomas looked toward the duffel bag.

For half a second, he expected it to move.

It didn’t.

“The Collector is gone.”

“And Red?”

“He went home.”

Kay exhaled slowly.

“Someday, you’re going to explain all of it to me.”

“Someday.”

“But first, we need a couple of mai tais.”

“I’m fifteen.”

“Fine. One mai tai and one virgin piña colada.”

“I’ll take a Coke.”

“Smartass.”

They drove in comfortable silence.

Dark hills and sleeping towns passed beneath the headlights. The road stretched ahead in a long ribbon of black.

Tomas tapped the window.

“You know what this means.”

“What?”

“Rook is going to be furious when he finds out I left.”

Kay smiled.

“He’ll survive.”

“What if he comes after us?”

“Then we’ll keep driving.”

Tomas rested his head against the window.

“I love you, Mom.”

Kay didn’t answer immediately.

Then she reached across the cab and squeezed his hand.

“I love you too, kid.”

For the first time in Tomas’s life, the road ahead didn’t feel like something chasing him.

It felt like something waiting.

The truck sped into the darkness, its headlights carving a path through the night.

Somewhere beyond the edge of the road, just out of sight, Tomas could almost hear Red laughing.

This time, Tomas laughed too.

For the first time in his life, his heart held more belief than doubt.

And for that night, at least, the road seemed capable of going on forever.