Page 22 of Harbinger

Elena props her head on her hand, looking at Sydney. “They do this all the time.”

“Whatother time has this happened?” Zach throws up his hands, exasperated.

Jerry thinks for a second. “Literally any time either of you go on a mission. There’s always drama. Every time.”

“I don’t mean to be a bitch,” Sydney starts, and something tells me that the next thing that comes out of her mouth is going to besuperbitchy. “But I don’t give a shit who these people are. Tell me what I have to do to get out of here.”

Jerry claps her hands in front of her, a smile tugging at her lips as she pulls her pack of cigarettes from where they’re tucked between her thighs, taking one out and lighting it. Brandon and Elena scooch away quietly. “Well, sister of mine, as I said last night, mommy and daddy dearest weren’t exactly upstanding citizens. They got into a lot of trouble. Trouble that I now need to clean up.”

“I know they weren’t good people,” Sydney tells her, hurt creeping into her voice. “I grew up with them. Why don’t we start by you telling me what the fuck happened to you.”

This isn’t going to go over well.

“Well,” Jerry starts, cracking her neck, “as you know, mom and dad grew up in a cult. A cult that wasn’t exactly, should I say, fond of women.”

“I knew they grew up in a cult, but I didn’t know any of the details. They wanted me far away from them.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not exactly the voice of morality either,” Jerry says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The cult, much like many, was incredibly invasive regarding women’s bodily autonomy. Their choices were never their own, and the cult had to involve themselves in every single aspect of their existence. That included what happened when they had kids.

“Instead of just simply, let’s say, leaving, mom and dad conformed to it until it was too late. Until your mother decided that they went too far. That moment was when they made her give me up at the hospital. A hospital in which they controlled.”

“Why would they make them do that?” Sydney asks, crossing her legs underneath her as she leans forward just slightly, her eyebrows drawn together.

“Because cults don’t like powerful women, and the more women are born into the cult, the more opportunity for women to come into power.” Jerry shrugs as if it’s the simplest answer in the world. “There are some people who are simply stuck in the past, and this cult was packed full of ’em. You think the US Government is bad?” Jerry scoffs, “This was another level.”

“Why didn’t I know any of this?”

“Fuck if I know.” Jerry shrugs. “The cult only allowed one girl. Women could have as many boys as they possibly wanted. But only one girl. If they already had one girl, they were forced to have an abortion or to give the kid up. One thing was clear, and it was that women weren’t allowed to have any chance at power. No chance at growing within the cult.”

“But they left somehow.”

“From what I heard, your mom felt terrible for giving me up. She was sick over it, but dad told her to knock it off. That it was what they had to do. That I would never know anything different. Like that would make it okay.”

Sydney looks down at her hands, contemplating this.

“Things were fine until I turned twelve and was bounced from my foster home to another one. They weren’t as nice there,” Jerry tells her, her eyes never once leaving Sydney’s. “I ran away the second I could. For years I’d be bounced from foster home to foster home, suffering abuse at the hands of some lame man who shouldn’t be trusted with children, only to run away again. Eventually, I wasn’t dragged back.

“I was around seventeen and looking for a job somewhere. At that point, I had been on my own for a month, homeless. Then I met Veronica, who brought me here.” She gestures around her. “I met Ronan then, and we became friends. He was nineteen. We were just babies, trying to figure things out.”

“What is this place?” Sydney asks, now fully leaning forward on her forearms, taking in the story.

“I think it’s your turn,” Jerry tells her.

“What do you want to know?”

“What’s your earliest memory?”

Sydney thinks for a moment, pondering the question as her hands start to rub together in her lap. Her tongue peeks out to run over her bottom lip before she bites it, nervous. “I don’t know,” she tells her, her voice small.

“That’s bullshit.”

“No, I really don’t. I’ve tried to block everything from that time out. I remember mom and dad used to take me to the country where they’d just abandon me to run in the field. I remember my nanny running after me. I also remember the day my nanny, well,” she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. “I remember when the nanny was caught. I don’t remember what she did. All I remember was her body dropping in front of mine, and asking dad why she was bleeding. Whether I should call someone to help her.”

“Was that the first time you saw them kill someone?” I ask her.

Sydney nods, her eyes squeezing shut even tighter. “It was the first time but far from the last.”

“Do you know what they did for work?” Jerry asks.

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