The Immortals by Mary Hallberg (chrysanthemum read aloud txt) 📗

the night before that mom and grandpa would be there too. Great.

The building was just outside The Necropolis, in an area where the streets and sidewalks were dirty and paint peeled off the walls. I would have felt better with security, but at least I had Gage. He laced his fingers through mine as we walked down the street. It was the first time he’d done this, and I tried to ignore the sweat on my palms.

The gallery was one in a long line of what looked like office buildings. We almost missed it, and figured the one we ended up at was the one because the street numbers matched. Fortunately, someone had at least bothered to sweep the concrete entrance.

Immediately to our right was a blue carpeted area and a few minglers looking at Luke’s photographs tacked on the walls. Fortunately, I didn’t see any of my family members right away. Gage spotted a picture on the far wall and dropped my hand to approach. I followed him, and when we got up to it he pointed and said, “Isn’t this beautiful?”

I had seen several photographs already, but not this one. It was a black and white photo of my dad. I remembered the day it was taken; I was ten, so he had just gotten sick. I guess I knew Luke had been taking pictures even that long ago, but I didn’t realize he had saved so many.

“Who is that?” Gage said. “He looks so much like you.”

“That’s my dad. Well, mine and Luke’s dad.”

“Is he here?”

I shook my head. “He died when I was twelve.”

“Oh.” He ran his teeth across his lips. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” I shrugged, but couldn’t help but noticed how much dad resembled grandpa in that picture. Family resemblance, I guess. Gage laced his fingers back through mine and led me to the next photo.

After we walked through the exhibit, gallery workers handed out coffee and we sat on big leather couches and schmoozed. Gage and I had just sat down holding styrofoam cups when mom, grandpa, Luke and several of mom’s co-workers walked in. One of the co-workers, a woman in her early thirties, immediately gasped. “Why, hello Gage!” she said.

Gage nodded and smiled. “Hi.” He didn’t act like he knew this woman, but she had probably seen him on TV.

“McKenzie, is this your new boyfriend?” Mom turned to her co-worker. “How do you know him?”

“Know him? He’s an Immortal. His brother, Matt, is probably the best poet of the century.”

Mom’s jaw opened slightly. “Matt Cavanagh? The poet Kenzie is friends with? He’s your brother?”

Gage nodded. “That’s him.”

“Oh, is he?” Luke smirked and sat annoyingly close to us. “So, Gage...what is it that you do for a living? Or, should I say, what is it that you do to pass the time?”

Gage shifted his eyes and squirmed. “Um...I’m an actor.”

Luke frowned. Actors were still looked down on outside of The Necropolis. I figured it must be left over from the days when hundreds of thousands of people wanted to be actors because they could get rich and famous for what they did. If you said you wanted to be an actor, it was assumed you wanted money and attention, even though it was next to impossible to become famous for acting then and it’s even more difficult now.

“Interesting, interesting,” Luke said, rubbing his chin. “McKenzie and I have a cousin who wants to be an actor. Did she tell you that?

Gage nodded. “Yeah, she did.”

“I keep telling her that she can’t get famous for it like you used to. You have to really love it. Can’t become Immortal for it, that’s for sure.”

Shut up Luke, I thought. Please, just stop talking. Everyone in the room knew that Gage would have no problem being a successful actor now that he was Immortal.

But of course he didn’t. “Gage, I know this might not be appropriate since we just met, but since you’re dating my sister I feel obliged to ask: How did you become Immortal?”

“Charity work,” he mumbled. A standard answer.

“His dad is Dr. Niles Cavanagh,” I filled in quickly. “The guy who started all those child hunger relief charities.” Gage nodded. I was afraid he might be angry with me for butting in, but he smiled.

Fortunately, so did Luke as he continued to rub his chin. “Lots of people do charity work,” he said. “Our amazing mother over here has been working for different charities for most of McKenzie’s life. Absolutely hates most of the Necropolis charities. Most of the money doesn’t go to the actual charities, you know, but back into The Immortals’ pockets. Now, isn’t that a travesty? Surely you hate that just as much as I do.”

Oh my God Luke, I thought. Please, just shut up already.

But Gage nodded smoothly. “My dad hates them too. That’s why he makes sure that all of the money from every event goes directly to that charity. Every penny he earns for hunger relief goes directly to the meals we provide for people.”

Luke didn’t try to argue with him anymore.

I started out life in The Necropolis with a three month supply of TNV and written instructions to apply for a three month refill before the end of October. On the morning of October first, I mentioned it to Jacey. “I’m almost out too,” she told me. “Let’s go pick it up ourselves after class. It’ll be a lot easier that way.”

“You can do that?” I asked.

“Of course. I’ve been doing it for months.”

We pulled up to the TNV factory late that morning. Even though we’d come straight from bio, it took almost forty-five minutes to get there, even with Jacey’s maniacal driving. There weren’t many Immortals sharing the roads here, but there were thousands of Underground workers, and apparently they’d all chosen that exact time to head to work.

The factory loomed in front of us like something out of an old science fiction movie. It was late morning but cloudy