“Then we must have been flown here. I don’t think we were out long enough to have been driven.”
“Which means the man has his own jet with pilots who won’t talk.”
“He looked like money,” said Mercy.
“And this looks like some sort of compound. A jail, perimeter fencing, armed guards.”
Mercy said in barely a whisper, “Like the dude from Waco? I read about that.”
Pine replied in a low voice. “David Koresh? I don’t know. Our guy strikes me as more of a businessman, not some crazed cult leader.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Mercy lay back on her bed and put her arm behind her head.
Pine watched her for about a minute, certain things inside of her building, like a jet’s engines creating barely suppressed thrust before takeoff. Finally, unable to stay silent any longer, she said, “I’m sorry about everything, Mercy.”
Mercy glanced at her. “This wasn’t your fault. Dude was after me. I should be apologizing to you.”
“No, I didn’t mean that. I meant . . . ” Pine looked down, gathering the words she wanted to use as precisely as possible. Only her emotion was impeding her effort at logic. Finally, emotion won out.
“I should have looked for you long before now. I just went on with my life and . . . It was like you weren’t . . . I didn’t deserve to . . . have . . . any . . . fucking thing. I . . . hate . . . myself.”
Pine leaned forward, her head nearly touching her knees, wrapped her arms around herself, and started to sob. It was like someone had just dropped an entire world on her soul, crushing it to nothing.
Mercy sat up, looking alarmed, and then her features changed to understanding. She shifted over to the other bunk, drew close to Pine, and finally wrapped her long, strong arms around her. She pressed her mouth to Pine’s ear, as Pine was wracked over and over again with sobs, her body shaking uncontrollably. Mercy tightened her grip, trying to quell the guilt-ridden rage inside of her twin.
She said in a low voice, “You’re going to get through this. We are going to get through this. You always figure it out. Always.”
Pine shook her head fiercely. “No, I don’t. It took me thirty damn years to find you. I’m useless.”
“Look at me, look at me. Lee, look at me!”
A teary Pine finally gazed at her sister.
“Do you remember that old oak tree in our yard? You would climb to the very top and it would make Mom so mad, because she was afraid you were going to fall and kill yourself?”
Pine nodded. “I-I r-remember.”
“But you always figured out how to get back down. Every single time. I watched you do it. You know that, right?”
Pine nodded dumbly.
“Well, this time we’re both up that tree, but you’re going to get us back down.”
“H-how can you be so s-sure of that?” said Pine with a pleading look on her face, and sobs still coming jerkily from her.
“I believe in you, Lee. I always did. And that got me through more than you’ll ever know.”
Slowly, painfully so, Pine’s sobs subsided. Her body stopped shaking. Her breathing slowed.
And all the time, Mercy’s grip on her held firm.
“I’m here, Lee. I’m here.”
Pine let out one additional long gasp of air, straightened, turned to her sister, and wrapped her arms around her. And held her just as tightly as Mercy was embracing her.
“I’ll never let you go, Mercy. Whatever happens, I’ll never let you go. It’s both or none, from now on.”