“What was all that about?” I ask, trying to remain civil. He won’t listen to me if I’m yelling at him.
He makes his way to the other side of the desk and sits in his comfortable chair across from me. He looks at the guard at the door and waves him off. When the door closes, his eyes meet mine for the first time today. “I did what has to be done.”
“You know I didn’t murder anyone,” I say. “I never denied stealing from you, but I didn’t kill Skip. You, Gabe, Mendez…you all know this.”
“It is for the best,” Paxton says.
“How?” I ask, clearly confused.
“I’m not running a prison here,” he says, repeating the same slogan he fed to the elders when discussing my punishment. “None of the elders thought stealing was enough to send you away, but none of us wanted to keep prisoners either.”
You didn’t want to keep prisoners, not the other elders, is what I want to say. I wish I could tell him that I heard the entire deliberation and how he took control over the elders…how he refused to listen to anyone else’s opinion.
“Was this Shadowface’s idea?” I ask.
Paxton’s eyebrows lower as I say these words. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you answer to him,” I say. “I know he’s a supplier, and apparently he’s the one actually running things around here. Not the elders.”
“Just because you read the word Shadowface in some record journal doesn’t mean you have any idea what you are talking about,” he says, but he looks away when he says it. He starts tapping his fingers on the desk in front of him — not with his fingernails, but his fingertips which gives an offbeat flat tempo in the much too silent room.
“I will do anything it takes to stay,” I tell him. My wrists are really beginning to hurt now. My fingers are starting to go numb. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“Why did you break in?” he asks. “That’s what puzzles me the most.”
I shrug. “I was actually looking for records. I wanted to know what kind of people you were. The gun was secondary. I saw it and I took it. It was stupid.”
“Foolish,” he says. “Not necessarily stupid. You saved our lives with it.”
The fact that he is commending me for saving his life with the gun he claimed I killed Skip with makes me livid. “So, why are you banishing me? I didn’t do what you said. You don’t have to imprison me. You don’t have to banish me. Think of another punishment.”
“The punishment must be well-remembered,” he says. “I want you gone for the stealing, but it’s not enough to banish you, so, you’re a murderer.”
“Don’t you see that it’s not right?” I ask.
“Don’t you see that I don’t care?” he comes back. “I’m trying to create a perfectly safe environment here at Crestwood.”
“And you’ve done a great job with that,” I say. “But you can’t just banish everyone that steals something.”
“Until now we have never had the problem with people stealing things,” he says.
“So, that’s it then,” I say. “You’re going to open the gates and send me walking. You might as well put me to death.”
“That’s much too drastic for what you have really done,” he says. “But I’m willing to give you a chance.”
My heart begins to beat a little heavier. A chance? Was all this constructed so Paxton might send me on some mission of his?
“I’m willing to let you back into Crestwood,” he says. “I’m willing to stand in front of everyone here and tell them that it was all a big mistake — that you didn’t kill anyone and that you didn’t even steal anything…that’s all it will take. One tiny speech and all is forgiven.”
“But you want me to do something,” I say.
“There is always a catch, isn’t there?” he says with a smile. I want to smack it off of him. He leans forward in his chair, elbows on the desk, his hands cupped together. His face turns suddenly serious. “I have a daughter. I haven’t seen or heard from her in four years.”
“You mean a year before the outbreak?” I ask.
He nods. “She and I were never on good terms after she went to college. She started dating this boy I didn’t care for and…” he waves a hand in the air, “well, there was a big fight and we didn’t speak to each other again. Then the greyskin virus broke out and I tried to find her. I spent the better part of a year looking for her before I decided to quit. I built a safe haven here in Crestwood hoping she would find it someday and that I would come across her again. But…I still haven’t seen her.”
“What do you want me to do, find her?”
“Yes,” he says, his face very serious.
“You haven’t seen your daughter in four years and you want me to find her? You know she’s probably…”
“Dead, yes I’m aware of the possibility,” he says, cutting me off sharply. “But I’m not really asking that you find her and bring her to me, I’m just asking that you find out as much information as you can about her — what may have happened to her…something. You bring me any information that’s useful and I’ll reinstate your citizenship here at Crestwood. It will be like this never happened.”
It will never be like that, I think. People will always remember the one accused of murder.
What was her name? they will ask. Remi?
Oh yeah, the murderer.
“I will be the murderer no matter what you tell them now,” I say.
Paxton shakes his head and sits back in his chair, crossing his legs. “They will believe whatever I tell them. Once I declare you innocent, they will forget in time. People thinking you’re a murderer for a short time is a pretty good punishment for stealing from me.”
“What if I find out she’s dead?” I ask. “You won’t want me here after that.”
He shakes his head again. “Just bring the proof.”
“In other words, it’s impossible,” I say. “Sorry to be so blunt but there is no proof left if she became some greyskin’s meal.”
Paxton blinks at my words and I can tell he’s trying not to let my forward speaking get to him. “It’s on you,” he says. “I don’t really expect to see you again. I’m just giving you a chance to redeem yourself in my eyes and the eyes of others here. If you can bring me proof of my daughter’s fate then you will be welcome here and I will even make you a soldier if that’s what you want.”
I sit and stare at his desk in front of me. It’s an impossible task, a stupid one. How could he ask this of me? Trying to find out what happened to someone in a greyskin-infested world is like asking how a cancer patient died. Well, she died because of cancer…Well, she died because of the greyskin virus. This was Paxton’s way of giving me hope (maybe some hope for himself as well), but I want to tell him that there is none and I will just say goodbye and be on my way.
“Where would I even start looking?” I ask.
“Elkhorn,” he says immediately. “You went to school there, right?”
Elkhorn carries with it another name: The Epicenter. It’s where this whole mess started. “I was going to college there when the outbreak happened, yes.”
“That was the last place I saw her,” he says. “She was a student at the university.”
“Four years ago?”
“Four years ago.”
“I’m sorry to say that she’s probably graduated by now, that is unless she couldn’t figure out a major first.” I can tell Paxton doesn’t care for my jokes. He doesn’t laugh, he doesn’t smile. He simply stares. “So,” I continue, “she might not have even been there when this whole thing started?”