‘Then how can I reach him?’
‘He lives in Rapture.’
I wince. I should have known that was coming. He hasn’t moved away then. ‘Is that where you come from? From Rapture?’
It takes a moment, but Noah nods his head.
I sigh then. Blow out my cheeks. Part of me is regretting bringing Noah here. But I can’t ignore the ball of excitement sitting low in my belly at the thought of seeing AJ Callahan again. Not that he would likely remember me at all. I’m not sure he even knows it was me in that closet he was kissing all those years ago. This kiss I’ve compared all other kisses to. Not that there have been many.
‘Maybe I could drive out there,’ I murmur. ‘Bring him back here.’
Noah lies down on the couch and pulls a cushion under his head, like he might be ready to settle in for the night.
‘Where would I find him?’ I ask.
‘Mmm?’
‘Your brother. In Rapture. Where would I need to go?’
‘Scotch & Smoke, prolly,’ Noah mutters with a yawn. ‘It’s where he usually hangs out. Plus, he rents a room above the place. If he’s not in the bar, try upstairs.’
‘Right,’ I say, before I bite down on my bottom lip. ‘Scotch & Smoke.’
I glance back at Noah. He’s already falling asleep.
Noah is under a blanket inside my apartment when I leave Eastvale in my car, my body still on high alert. This is not me. I am not a risk-taker.
I take the modern, well-lit highway that leads northeast from Canyon to San Antonio and Austin. About a kilometer out, there is a green and white traffic sign for Rapture with a left-pointing arrow.
Turning at the exit, the road swiftly disappears to darkness. I cling to the steering wheel, my headlights catching several diamond-shaped yellow signs at the roadside that readSLOWin big letters.
Up ahead, there are dim lights dotted on the horizon.
The road is uneven, my car bouncing over the surface. As I approach theWELCOME TO RAPTUREsign, I hit the brakes, my car shrieking to a halt.
I squint through the windshield. The sign is battered and bent, as though it’s been removed and then resurrected. Someone has graffitied a cross through it in white. Underneath, also in graffiti, are the wordsCops Not Welcome Here. Someone has spray-painted the wordSheriffwith a jagged red cross through it.
On the other side of the road is something I recognize. A large, raised billboard from a real estate developer, with an AI-rendered picture of modern houses and apartments, surrounded by green grass, swimming pools and a golf course. This billboard also looks weather-beaten. Across the picture, someone has graffitied in the same rough, white text:DEVELOPERS GO HOME. RAPTURE IS NOT FOR SALE.
Once more, I cling to my steering wheel, squinting up at the two signs illuminated by my headlights.
I’ve heard the stories, mostly from my stepmother. I know what people say about this place. I know they’re trying to strangle the residents of Rapture into submission by cutting the power, forcing its last remaining inhabitants to make way for the bulldozers to move in. I think of Noah, back in my apartment, and swallow my fear. I ease my foot down on the accelerator and leave the road signs behind me for dust.
I don’t know the population of Rapture, but it’s not large. People in Canyon call it a township. Some Rapture inhabitants took the money that was offered to them as compensation to relocate. Some moved to other neighborhoods in Canyon, some further upstate. When they cut the power at night to try and evict the remaining locals, it was reported that they’d doubled down and were refusing to budge, and that’s been the status quo ever since.
I keep going. Entering the township, I wind my window down. The street lighting doesn’t work here anymore. I follow the whir of a generator and the muffled strains of music. Scotch & Smoke is the only bar in Rapture that I’m aware of. It used to be a large, old-fashioned saloon bar, until all the other businesses began to close, and it became the center of this community. A dog-eared Texas Lone Star flag hangs from a pole above the entry door.
I pull up into the parking lot and switch off my engine. For a moment, I listen to the gentle thump of music coming from the building to my left. It resembles a very large three-storey cabin, with steps leading up to a porch. I can see theScotch & Smokesign on the outside, but it’s not illuminated. The building is patched up in parts by sheets of corrugated iron. This whole place resembles something out of an apocalyptic zombie film, and I’m half expecting a member of the undead to crawl up the hood of my car.
My imagination’s getting away from me. I just need to find AJ Callahan and tell him I have his brother. He can come and get him from my apartment, and my life can go on just as it was. Apart from the fact that I will have seen AJ again after five years. Maybe I can tell him it was me that he kissed at the graduation party, and not Amber Bradshaw.
But a little voice in my head says,It’s way too late for that, Hollie. You should have had the guts to tell him on the night.
I get out of my car. There are vehicles parked everywhere, haphazardly, plus a couple of rows of motorcycles. My legs feel wobbly as I walk toward the steps. There’s movement as a cat darts out in front of me through the shadows, before it comes over and rubs itself against the backs of my legs.
‘Oh, hello,’ I say, crouching down.
A voice cuts through the darkness. ‘Wouldn’t touch her if I were you.’
