The Survivors

Epilogue: God's Work, pt. 2

Seattle, Washington
November 2, 2011

  It was early November when Everett and I met up with the rest of the Winters in Seattle to travel back to Montana. I tapped my fingers nervously against my leg as I sat in the lobby of the Four Seasons awaiting their arrival. I was unhappy to be back to reality after spending two weeks of perfect quiet in Moscow with Everett. If I had not loved him before, after two weeks of sleeping and eating and kisses and quiet moments, I surely loved him now.
  But now I was here, facing an uncertain future, the familiar tension having returned to my body and my mind.
    It had begun in the British Airways lounge at JFK after our connecting flight landed when I flipped on my cell phone for the first time in nearly three weeks. There were messages from a concerned Corrina, citing no Twitter updates, text messages, calls, or voicemails in nearly a month. There was a voicemail from the beautiful and heartbroken Cole Hardwick that had been sent not long after our ill-fated meeting in London. He apologized, but he also pleaded with my voicemail, reminding me of his gut feeling that we had a future. "I can wait," he had said. "I know one day the time will be right. Until then, enjoy your life, and I'll enjoy mine." He hesitated before adding, "Until we meet again."
    And then there was the message I never expected to receive. I had programmed the numbers for the five cell phones I had given to the Survivors into my phone as "Family 1" through "Family 5," and when I turned on my phone in New York, there was a troubling one-minute-and-seventeen-second voicemail from Family 4. It was Lizzie. She didn't give any details, but I already knew what had happened. She asked me to come home. She said that things were changing, that they needed my help, and that I might be their only hope.
    So Everett and I met the Winters in Seattle to go together to Montana. I left my prized CL 63 in the parking garage of the Four Seasons and purchased two SUVs to traverse the terrain between Seattle and Montana, knowing the roads would grow treacherous in the coming months. Winter was upon us.
    When we arrived at the Survivors' City gates, there was less animosity than the last time we had arrived there. Lizzie, Sarah, and Hannah were waiting for us. Lizzie swung her arms around my neck.
  "I am so glad you've come back," she said.
  "I've come to help. That's not the same thing as coming back," I clarified.
  "For the second time, I thought I had lost you forever. Just knowing that you would come when I called puts my mind at ease," Lizzie said.
    John and his loyal following came not long after we entered the city gates. Hannah had not warned him that we would be returning. His hostility toward me was clear; it radiated deep in my bones. Sensing my tension, Everett walked hand-in-hand with me through the city. The Winters followed close behind us, obviously guarding me. I was grateful to see my two families coming together, even under such terrible conditions. I doubted they would ever be friends, but everyone seemed to realize the magnitude of the situation that lay before us.
  We went directly to the special room off the church. Once we had all crossed the threshold of the church, I stole a glance at the Winters, who seemed unscathed by being in a church. Ginny laughed, hearing my thoughts. Another vampire myth debunked.
  Andrew spoke. "Sadie, friends of Sadie, we assume you know the tragedy that's occurred in our community," he said. His voice sounded thin; this was taking its toll on Andrew.
  "How bad is it?" I asked.
  "Four of the last generation took off together. We thought they might be exploring, but when they didn't return for several days, we knew something was terribly wrong. Soon after that, six more across two generations left in the middle of the night," he said. "We had protection at the gates and around the walls. They stole the keys and took the vehicle you brought us," he explained. There was a pang in my stomach. I had enabled them-first in spirit, now for real.
    "So it's ten who have gone," I said. It was worse than I had envisioned.
    John could be silent no longer. "Ten is where it started," he scoffed. "Twenty-eight have gone, Sadie. Twenty-eight from your family have left because of you! Because of your wretched ideas, your dark ways!" he shouted.
    I shrank in my chair. Twenty-eight? So much worse than I had imagined! Everett squeezed my hand again, leaning into me protectively and instinctually. Everett already hated John, I could tell. I feared the animosity would only grow in their coming interactions. I let my eyes hang on the edge of the worn marble table, fearing John was right.
  And then it hit me, and I froze. John could have said any number in that moment and none would have mattered to me like the number twenty-eight. I filtered through my memories until I came to an image of Noah and me in the snow. There were twenty-nine Survivors who had still hearts. Having already left myself, I knew without a doubt that those other twenty-eight were the ones who had gone. It was too much for a coincidence.
    I wanted to hear their names anyway. "Who has abandoned you?" I asked, careful of my word choice. I closed my eyes as Andrew listed the names, each a name I had carved into a tree nearly two decades before, a list I had written in my journal, a list that had lingered in my mind. He paused before the last one, but I didn't have to hear him say it to know it was Noah.
    There was a heavy silence in the room, and for that I was grateful. I knew that they were ambushing me in their minds, and was glad not to hear the angry voices of many of the elders who blamed me for what had happened. That's why I wanted to meet in this room. It grieved me to see them like this, in anguish over their family. I didn't want to hear their internal pain as well.
    "What would you like me to do?" I asked.
    "Find them," Andrew said. "Reason with them. See if you can convince them to come back just to speak with us. Maybe we could come up with a system for them to live out there but come back sometimes," he went on, emotion thick in his voice. This idea of compromise with the rogue Survivors was shocking to me. I looked at the Winters and saw that they, too, were uneasy with the idea of compromise. It was so clear that Andrew had no idea what the risk was. He just wanted his family safe and together. He began again. "You've got to help us. All we have is each other. We understand the choices you have made. We can make our peace with those choices now that you come back every now and then. We will dedicate ourselves to peace with the Winters if it means you will still count yourself among the Survivors. But, Sadie, we cannot lose family members like we're losing them now. We will have no family left."
  Hearing the pain in Andrew's voice, I knew I couldn't tell them, not yet. I couldn't tell them what had or would become of their children, what monsters they would be.
  I looked at the hardened faces of the fourteen Survivors and realized that this could be what would keep them from surviving after all.

Later that night, Everett and I went for a walk on the farthest edges of the city where the woods were thick. The moon overhead was bright and almost full, though little of the light made it to the ground where we were. Snow was falling.
    "I'm afraid to tell them," I admitted to him. "They are already so weakened by their family betraying them."
    "They do look heartbroken," he agreed. "News of the prophecy won't help that."
    "Do you think it's possible we're wrong? That they're all just like me, and, though it's devastating to my family, they've just run off and there is no danger?" I asked.
    "My father would tell you that the future is certain," he said. "But I know you don't trust that yet, so I'll say this: We will find your brethren, and we will determine what they are. Then we'll know whether it is as bad as we've imagined."
    I sighed. "We've been a peaceful civilization for three centuries. The walls of the city have never been protected. I don't know how to tell them that that's all over, that the destruction of the outside world has found them, even here," I said. "I'm scared."
  "You've spent three years trying to kill yourself, and now you're afraid?" he asked incredulously.
  I shoved him. We headed back toward the square. "I'm afraid for my family. I'm afraid for your family," I said.
  "I'll protect you," he said. I creased my face in disapproval. I didn't need protection. I needed a way to stop the inevitable.
  The moonlight danced off the newfallen snow. I lay down on the ground and he followed me, wrapping his arms around me.
  "They're going to think they'll survive it," I said, putting my head on his chest. "My whole life I've heard them say we're doing God's work. They'll think this is just a part of that. Surviving is all they know how to do."
    Everett stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. "I don't know if it's that they've survived so much as that they've fought for their lives. And they will all fight again, that much I know," he said.
    If the time came, would I fight for mine?
  "You'd never fight for yourself, of course," he said grimly, zeroing in on my thoughts. "I'll have to fight for you."
    I said nothing. He pulled me up so my face met his.
    "I know my purpose in life," he whispered. "It will be to keep you alive, no matter the cost. That's my part in God's work."
    I knew he meant what he said.