No Peace for the Damned

lay blame on the rest of the family.
    No one had visited me that day.
    The morning that followed, I watched a replay of Uncle Max’s speech. The monitor beeped twice. My body remained cool.
Still no Theo
. The alarm beeped once more when Heather walked through the door. She looked tired, but her smile was genuine. She paused in the entryway just inside the kitchen, then held her hands up in surrender.
    “I come in peace,” she chuckled. Then she lowered her hands and sobered. “Are you OK?”
    She was so casual.
Maybe Jon hadn’t told her all the gory details
.
    “Uh, yeah, I’m good,” I said.
    She stepped into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table.
    “Mind if I have a drink of that?” she asked, nodding to my whiskey.
    “Sure.” I took down a glass, added some ice and sour mix, then poured out a respectable drink. I slid the glass to her across the table.
    She tipped the drink in my direction then drank the entire thing in a series of gulps.
    “So I heard about everything,” she started. “David Sasser was one of the hostages you guys rescued. He said that Bankswas the one who took him—that’s why you didn’t feel anything at that building we went to. And Thirteen figures Banks was also with your brother when they set up the bomb at Batalkis’s house. It was his lead in the first place.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through right now.” She folded her hands on the table. Stared at her fingers. “Jon’s gunshot wound was pretty bad. And Charles, Marie, and I just got in last night.”
    There was an edge of guilt to her voice. She felt bad for not coming to see me sooner. “William Broviak is hidden now,” she continued. “Even though everyone agrees that the rest of your family doesn’t know about him or
l’annuaire
, Thirteen thought it best for him to relocate. He agreed, so they found him someplace not too isolated. He didn’t seem too bothered.”
    I took a drink and waited.
    “So…um…what are you going to do now?” she finally asked.
    It occurred to me that certain members of the team would probably think it best if I too relocated to some place not too isolated. Probably not a bad idea.
    “I’m not sure,” I told her honestly.
    It didn’t seem appropriate to stay at the farmhouse. Although I couldn’t pinpoint why. I was still a member of the Network—Thirteen had made a point to mention it on his earlier visit. But to stay here…it just didn’t feel right anymore.
    Mallroy knew I was alive. They’d come for me now. But for some reason I just wasn’t afraid anymore. There were too many other things to deal with now.
    Heather’s eyes were on me. I finished off my whiskey.
    “You shouldn’t go,” she said as if reading my mind. “There’s no need. We don’t know for sure if they’ll be looking for you. It’s not like you have to just disappear. You’re still part of the Network, part of our team. We still need your help.”
    I smiled at my empty glass. Her sentiment meant more than she could know.
    “Thank you,” I said. “Really, thank you so much for saying that and for coming here.” I spun my empty glass on the table. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Heather. There’s just so much I need to figure out now.”
Like what the hell am I? How much power do I really have? Will I really be able to control it all?
“How can I help the Network, or be with…anyone,”
Theo
, “until I know what’s going on with me?”
    After a moment, she picked up her glass and tilted it over her mouth, shaking it to get the last drop. Then she stood up and looked around.
    “Do you still have my cell phone number?” she asked.
    “Yeah, I have it.”
    “Use it,” she said. “Please.”
    I followed her back down the hall to the door. She walked down the front steps. At the last step, she spun around. She sprinted back to the porch and wrapped her arms around me. It was a fast hug; I didn’t even have time to return the gesture or pat her on the back, but it was a hug nonetheless.
    And it was wonderful.
    …
    I’d expected her to be my last visitor. But as the early morning sun streamed through the house, Thirteen strolled in. He leaned against the kitchen wall, crossed his arms over his chest. He was as wide as the doorway.
    “You can’t leave,” he said. “I won’t let you.”
    I smiled.
    Without a word, I went back to the bedroom. I took a long look around. The room had been mine for a few