Mistunner 2 - Chapter 48 - Thick and Thin

When I was young, I blamed my parents for putting me in such a horrible situation where I had no choice but to do horrible things in service of my own freedom. As I grew older, it was Jeremiah keeping me down. Now, I look around and see nothing but ineptitude preventing me from achieving my goals. Sometimes, though, I wonder if I’m the problem.

Nora Lancaster

Patrick and I sat inside what was left of a building, an awkward silence stretching between us. To distract myself, I once again studied the shelter I’d chosen, and I couldn’t help but suppress a sigh. It really didn’t offer much in the way of protection, largely because it was comprised of a few crumbling walls that looked on the verge of falling apart. As far as I could tell, they would hold for at least a little while longer – I’d tested their structural integrity before committing to depending on them for the night – but beyond that, I knew it wouldn’t be long before they surrendered to the creeping vines that coated their surface.

Despite its lack of a roof – and one of its four walls – it was the best shelter I’d found. A few buildings we’d passed were already home to beasts or wildlings, which eliminated them from contention, but the vast majority were in even worse shape than our current temporary abode. It was as if the further north we went, the more committed nature seemed to destroying any evidence of human civilization. And it was doing a good job, too. In a few more years, there would be nothing left but scattered debris and half-buried foundations.

It was a poignant reminder of how far humanity had fallen.

The blue tinted light of a Mist lamp cast our surroundings in deep shadow, mingling with the slivery rays of a full moon to produce an eerie sort of ambiance. I’d experienced it many times before – after all, I’d spent quite a bit of time traveling the wilds – but I’d rarely shared it with anyone else.

And I hated it.

Not because I didn’t want Patrick’s company. I did, though despite my previous resolution to take the next steps in our relationship, I had done no such thing. For that all-important moment, everything had to be perfect. And a crumbling building in the middle of the wilderness, with both of us smelling and looking like we’d been traveling all day, certainly didn’t reach that lofty standard.

Still, I couldn’t deny that his presence was, in a lot of ways, comforting. Even so, I hated that he was there because I knew how vulnerable it made me. Back in Nova, he could take care of himself well enough. His pistol was top-of-the-line, and he had a skill that augmented it. However, what was good enough in Nova City was woefully inadequate in the wild places of the world. If I hadn’t already known that before my encounter with the horde of mutated wildlings, almost dying had hammered home the point in a way that made it impossible to forget just how exposed we both were. I was confident that I could survive most things the wilderness could throw at me – my own arrogance and stupidity notwithstanding – but I couldn’t do so and protect Patrick at the same time.

The war between those two emotions – relief that he was with me and fear that I couldn’t protect him – created an awkward situation, and the silence between us continued to stretch until, at last, he asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

I glanced his way to see his brows furrowed in concern. For me. How long had it been since I had anyone look at me like that? My uncle had never let his emotions show, and I hadn’t really let anyone close since his death. Nobody but Patrick, who always seemed like he put my emotional needs before his own. It was such a strange feeling, knowing that he actually cared about me. Jeremiah had, but even that had been tempered by his taciturn personality. At one point, I’d thought the same of Nora, but she’d proven that lie when she’d sold us all out to the Enforcers.

Besides, everyone who’d ever seemed to care about me had done so with an ulterior motive. Jeremiah had been filled with so much regret that he’d latched onto helping me survive as some sort of penance. Or to right the wrongs of his past, like when he’d let my mother refuse the Tier-7 Nexus implant. Nora had only cared insomuch as it allowed her to enact her own plans. Being a surrogate big sister – or aunt, maybe – had given her the chance to take my uncle down, and I didn’t think it went much further than that.

But Patrick – he was different. He didn’t really want anything from me, save for my company. Even when I’d turned him down, it hadn’t affected his ability to care about me and my well-being. Perhaps that was why I found his presence so comforting. It didn’t matter if we never got together; he’d still be there when I needed him.

I wanted to say that I would return that favor, that I cared about him as much as he seemed to care about me, but I knew that wasn’t true. Next to my quest for revenge, whatever relationship we’d managed to cultivate was only of minor importance.

Still, I’d have to have been stupid not to see that the potential between us, and I didn’t want to lose that.

“What do you mean?” I asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

“You almost died, Mira,” he said quietly. “Like, your skin was melting off. That stuff, it went right through your subdermal armor, too. I saw bones. I…I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted.

“Because we got lucky,” he said.

“Didn’t feel all that lucky when I was fighting those things.” I said it with a slight smile and a slightly amused tone. A mistake, I soon found.

He shook his head. “This isn’t something to joke about,” he said. “I didn’t make a big deal about it back there, but this whole thing – it’s insane. You know I’m not against taking risks. Remy and me, we did it all the time. But there’s taking a risk, and then there’s throwing your life away for nothing.”

“This isn’t about what happened back there, is it?” I guessed.

He ran his fingers through his blonde curls, then said, “Not entirely.”

“Then say what you really want to say,” I muttered, already getting frustrated and annoyed. I really wasn’t great at talking to people, especially when it came to feelings. Sure, I could confront a gang leader and dictate terms with the best of them, but the moment I needed to discuss emotions with someone that mattered, I couldn’t help but get defensive. One of my many character flaws, I suppose.

“Fine. Okay – you want me to say what needs to be said? I can do that,” he responded, pushing himself to his feet. “This whole vendetta is crazy. I don’t know half of what you’ve done, and even that much is enough to keep me up at night. I have no problem with you killing the woman who betrayed your uncle. She deserves it. But you’ve gone so much further than that, Mira! I don’t know what the city was like before we got there, but I do know that it’s on the verge of an explosion.”

He sighed and shook his head before continuing, “It’s rough out here. Super dangerous even for us. But half of Nova’s population would rather take their chances with the monsters than stay in the city. There are more leaving every day, too. And the ones that stay are dead set on fighting a war that none of them even know why they’re fighting. And you…you’re in the middle of all of it. For all I know, you instigated it. I don’t ask you about your plans because –”

“You could.”

“What?”

“You could ask,” I said. “I’ll tell you everything. But…but I know you’re not going to like it.”

“How many people have died because of the things you’ve done?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Directly? Thousands,” I said without hesitation or remorse. “Indirectly? A lot more.”

“H-how do you live with that?” he asked.

“Because most of them are barely even living, Patrick,” I stated. “Men and women who spend every waking hour in virtual reality. The addicts. The ones who’ve just given up on everything. The people who trudge back and forth to the factories or the silos, working shifts so long they can’t do anything but spend their off-time sleeping, all so they can get up and do it again the next day. The Enforcers who think that just because they have a little power, they matter. The Operators who don’t even know they’re part of the system of oppression that hangs over everything in the city. And then there are the ones at the top. The aristocrats. The rich. The powerful. The ones who could make a difference if they wanted to, but choose to keep their thumbs on everyone else. I’m willing to let them all die because they just don’t matter. In most cases, when they die, it’s a mercy.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” he asked.

“I do,” I said. “And do you want to know the worst part? Even if everyone somehow came together for the common good, if everything was magically fixed, it would all still be pointless.”

“How so?”

“Because in a few years, the aliens are going to come and enslave us all,” I stated. “They’ve already started. All those people who look down on us from Lakeview or whatever, they’re slaves just like all the rest of us. They’ve just deluded themselves into believing the little bit of slack they’ve been given is actual freedom. Instead, they’re wearing leashes, just like everyone else.”

I sighed. “You don’t see it because you don’t want to,” I said. “My uncle did. He knew what was coming, and everything he did was so I’d have a chance to escape the aliens’ grasp. So I could be free.”

“And how is that working out for you?” he asked.

I didn’t answer because, deep down, I knew it was all a lie. A justification for my single-minded pursuit of vengeance. Sure, things were bad, but that wasn’t new. If I looked closely enough and twisted the facts the way I wanted, I suspected that I’d see the same sort of problems. Oppression was just a part of human nature. Perhaps it was part of being sapient, to exploit other people for your own gain.

It wasn’t everyone. It probably wasn’t even most. But there would always be people – or aliens – who were willing to enslave and oppress the population in the pursuit of power.

I’d just chosen to latch on to all the worst parts of human – and alien – nature so that I didn’t have to confront the high cost of my revenge. If I thought everyone was terrible, doomed, or enslaved, what did it matter if a few thousand innocents were killed? It was easier to think of it as a mercy than to admit that I was just as selfish as anyone else. Maybe more, considering the lengths to which I would go just to feel marginally better.

“I don’t know,” I admitted quietly.

“Then why? Why do it?” he asked, kneeling beside me when I didn’t immediately answer. He reached out, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Listen – I’m not going to tell you to stop. If this is what you think you need to do, I’ll support you every step of the way. If I’m being honest, I don’t care so much about all those other people. But I do care about you, about what this is doing to you.”

“I’m fine.”

He cupped my chin and gently raised my face so that we were looking one another in the eye. “No. You’re not,” he said, his voice clear and strong. “Once, when I was really young. Before my mom died, we had a house. A real home. Remy had set it all up, you know? It was on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was…it was nice. Cozy. I don’t remember a lot about it, but I do remember the garden. Mom loved working in it, digging and planting and all that. I don’t know if she had a skill or whatever, but it didn’t really matter. I don’t think it was about results. It was about the act itself.”

“That…that sounds nice…”

“It was,” he agreed, pulling away. “What I can remember of it, I mean. But then, one day when Remy was making a run, some men found us. They…they did…horrible things. I hid in a closet, so I didn’t…I didn’t see everything. But when I got out, Mom was…she was different. The whole house was trashed, and her garden had been destroyed. I can’t know for sure, and at the time, it never even crossed my mind – but looking back, it’s obvious what they did to her. Especially after how Remy reacted.

“He just went cold. Like…it was like all the happiness or joy or whatever just got sucked out of him,” Patrick explained, his eyes welling up with tears. “I could see it in his eyes. Even as young as I was, I knew what it was, too. Murder. And after he got Mom settled…that night, after she was finally asleep, he left the house. I couldn’t sleep, and I stayed up all night. When he got home just before dawn, he was covered in blood.

“It took me a while to work up the courage to go to him, to ask what he’d done,” he went on, turning away so I couldn’t see the wetness of his cheeks. “I found him in the kitchen, patching himself up. He still had blood all over his face. I’ll never forget what he said when I asked him what had happened.”

Patrick sighed. “He told me, ‘This is something you’re gonna have to learn sooner or later, kid. Some people deserve to die. Ain’t nothin’ else to it, either. The world is a better place without ‘em. Those men, they deserved to die. Worse, really. But I’ll tell you right now – that’s a dark road, killin’ everyone who deserves it. It stains your soul. Do it enough, and killin’ starts to look like the answer to every problem. Most of the time, it is. That’s the problem with it, boy. Killin’ is effective. But even when it’s right, it ain’t. One day, you’ll have to do it, too. That’s the way the world is, now. But it always has a price. Sometimes, it’s as simple as pissin’ off the wrong person. Other times, it’s up here.’ He tapped his head, then. ‘But no matter what, the biggest effect is here.’ He slapped a bloody hand on his chest, leaving a red handprint.”

Shaking his head, Patrick went on, “Despite what happened on that battlefield, I’m not really worried about you dying. It was shocking, but I’ve always known that it was a possibility. And if it happens, I probably won’t take it that well. But what I’m really worried about is here,” he said, reaching out and tapping a finger against my chest. “I think what Remy was talking about was that every time you kill somebody, it gets a little bit easier. And Mira, you’ve killed a lot of people. I just don’t want it to get too easy for you.”

Even though my first impulse was to react defensively, it only took me a moment to recognize what he was trying to say. Ever since I’d begun walking the path of revenge, killing had become progressively easier. Before my uncle’s death, I would have blanched at the thought of killing even one innocent person. But now? Hundreds had died in my attacks on the silos, and exponentially more had been killed during the war I’d started.

Certainly, I truly believed everything I had said. Most of the people in Nova City were living hollow existences that barely even qualified as lives. I felt that right down to the very core of who I was. However, claiming that their deaths were acts of mercy was an absolute falsehood. It was just an excuse so I wouldn’t have to take responsibility for all the collateral damage I had left in my wake.

And it was effective, too.

It wasn’t that surprising, though. For months, I’d looked at my revenge as the most important facet of my existence. In the throes of righteous vengeance, I had pushed everything else aside. Not only had I looked the other way when it came to all of those people who’d died, but I had also pushed Heather’s fate to the back of mind, and in doing so, I’d condemned her to a fate worse than death.

Finally, I had to ask the question that had been marinating in the back of my mind for weeks. Maybe even months. I looked up and into Patrick’s eyes, asking, “Am I the bad guy?”

It was a valid question, even the potential answer terrified me. My actions weren’t those of a hero. I didn’t save people. I didn’t make the world a better place. Instead, the only things I’d left in my wake were death and destruction.

“No,” Patrick said, though that wasn’t unexpected. After all, he cared about me, and the way I saw it, his bias was always going to shine through. Plus, even if he did think I was the sum of my evil actions, it would be the height of idiocy to admit it. Telling that kind of truth to someone with my track record was a good way to get killed.

Of course, I wasn’t the type of person who would do that, even if the facts of my actions suggested otherwise. I hoped Patrick knew that.

“You’re just a little lost right now,” he said. “We all go through it. What happened to you…it…conventional ideas of good and evil don’t really apply. I’m not telling you to stop doing what you’ve been doing. I know how much you need it. But I just think you need to be cognizant of the cost. And more than anything, I want you to know that I’m here for you. No matter what you do or how you choose to do it, I’ll be here to support you. Because we’re in this together, Mira.”

“And if it turns out that I end up being the bad guy?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Then we’ll be bad guys together,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “I trust you. You kill somebody, I believe they probably deserved it.”

It was a vote of confidence I sorely needed, and not for the first time, I found myself thankful that our paths had crossed.

“Don’t think I won’t tell you when I think you’re making a mistake, though,” he said. “I will. So, I might not always tell you what you want to hear. But at the end of the day, I’ll be right there with you, through thick or thin.”

I let out a sigh. “Thanks,” I said. “That…that means a lot to me.”