“It’s so good to see you,” I say, examining him for differences. He looks well, even a little tanned.
“And you. I’m so glad you made it. I heard the hellhounds were in the forest and I didn’t know what to think.” Matt’s eyes crinkle at the edges. He glances at my necklace and touches a finger to the pendant.
“Well, we had an up close and personal with one,” I say, a wave of pride swelling over me. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Matt’s eyes go to Joe next and immediately narrow. He’s never been a big fan of football players.
“Matt, this is Joe. We met in the woods and he saved me, more than once.” I desperately hope they’ll get along. Matt is my best friend in the world and Joe is, well, Joe is Joe.
They shake hands, examining each other from head to foot.
Matt looks at the ridge line. “Where’s your dad?”
I don’t move, but drop my gaze.
“Shit.” Matt runs a hand through his lengthening hair, pulling at the roots. “Is he…?”
I hunch a shoulder. “He was injured in the hellhound attack.” I clear my throat, willing the tremble to disappear. Anxiety comes knocking back, threading through my wobbly calf muscles. “Taken by the army.”
Whop-whop-whop.
We all glance at the sky. The helicopter isn’t visible yet, but it’s near.
“Let’s get you guys inside,” Matt says, parting the branches at his back to reveal a door sunken into the ground.
Whop-whop-whop.
The wind picks up my hair and we all press into the shrubs. Matt pulls the door open and we tumble inside. The sound of the helicopter blades is immediately quieted.
With the door closed behind us, my heart stills. I blink as my eyes adjust to the lighting of a few LED lanterns along the walls. The temperature drops significantly and the smell of damp clay hangs in the air. As we walk, Joe stoops under the occasional stalactite. But he trips, bangs his knee on a rock and hits his head on the ceiling. A mini avalanche crumbles down the wall.
“Oops.” Joe tries to catch some of the rolling pebbles. I sneak a glance at Matt, who tries hard to hold back a smile. I step on his foot and wag a finger at him.
We follow Matt for a couple of minutes before we emerge into an enormous chamber. The edges are ringed with pairs of stalactites and stalagmites stretching toward each other, the center relatively flat and smooth.
“This is our main assembly area,” Matt says. The room is as big as the school practice gym. I turn in a circle, surveying the expanse, and spot huddled shapes at the edges of the room. Moans and murmurs filter toward me. Pain-filled pupils catch in the dim light. As my eyes adjust, I wince when I see the blood-stained bandages and several people clammy with fever.
“What’s going on?”
Matt surveys the room with his hands on his hips. “People got injured on their way here.”
“Your family?” I ask.
Matt taps an erratic rhythm against his thigh. “They’re OK, but Lyla’s in a compound.”
“Damn, I’m sorry, Matt.” My hand floats to his and I squeeze his jittering fingers.
Joe opens his mouth to say something, but Matt cuts in. “She’s alive, I think. They’re not killing anyone yet.”
I drop my rucksack and dive into the section holding the bottles of pills. I hand over the regeneration bottle. Matt reads the label, his eyebrows shooting high.
“This will help. Thanks, Silver.”
A familiar shape approaches from across the chamber, dragging his left leg. A shape that fills my eyes with tears. A few feet before me, he bows.
“Sensei,” I say. “You’re here.”
Then Claus wraps me in his arms and kisses the top of my head. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”
I introduce Joe and ask Claus about his leg.
“Shot through the knee,” Claus replies, lifting his leg a little.
I nod at the regeneration pills, but Claus shakes his head. “Let’s save them for those who really need them.”
Matt hands the pills to a girl with long dark hair and skin so pale it’s nearly translucent, but what really draws my eye are her enormous wings. The green of jungle leaves, of precious jade jewels, of bioluminescent plankton. The feathers ruffle and sway in all directions, almost whispering. She turns, and her irises sparkle with an emerald beauty. It’s a common side effect of nanites: your irises change to reflect the modifications in your body.
“Who is that?” I murmur.
Matt turns to look. “Paige. She’s been helpful.”
She walks around the perimeter of the chamber, handing out the pills to those most in need, her voice soft and warm, her hands alighting on heads, patting shoulders, wrapping bandages tighter. People smile when she approaches, raising their hands to touch her. One kid plucks a green feather right out of her plumage. She smiles and offers him a second. In the distance, I spot another girl with wings—fairy wings—and a taller girl with long red hair who is almost as big as a bulk.
“I didn’t realize there would be so many alts here,” I say.
“It seems it isn’t just the unadjusteds who are unhappy with the current government.” Matt tucks his thumbs into his belt loops. “We even had someone with telekinesis arrive yesterday. He could be extremely useful.”
Beside me, Joe reaches into his backpack and removes the roasted venison he packaged in a plastic bag. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go hand this off. Hopefully it will help in some small way.”
“Kitchen is that way.” Matt indicates toward the back. “Thank you, Joe.”
“Catch you later,” I say.
Claus taps Matt on the shoulder and points to a narrow passageway with his cane. “Why don’t you show Silver around?”
I bow at Claus, and Matt leads me away.
“So, who’s in charge around here?” I crane my neck to see farther down the passage.
“Francesca.”
“Francesca?”
“Mrs. Montoya.”
“Our social studies teacher?” I grab his arm. “The one with the tight bun and spider brooch?”
“The very same.” Matt chuckles. “And that spider brooch is an anti-Bear symbol.”
I arch an eyebrow. “She’s been wearing that for years.”
“Exactly.”
On the other side of the chamber, the injured people who were huddled on the floor begin to stretch and move. They reach for me as I walk by, wide-eyed with wonder and muttering thanks for bringing the regeneration pills. My name is whispered from mouth to mouth. I wonder if they also know about the reward.
Matt’s elbow brushes against mine as he explains the cave’s layout. “Four other passageways lead off this chamber. One goes to the kitchens, one goes to the bedrooms—and I say that loosely—one goes to the underground lake, and another leads to a series of smaller chambers where we’re storing weapons and other equipment.”
“Kitchens? Lakes? How big is this place?”
“Huge.” He winks. “We lost Megan for a couple hours. We’ve replaced her wheels with thick tire treads and she’s been rolling through the cave like it’s just an obstacle course. My parents were seriously freaked out.”
“Typical Megan.”
“Silver!” Kyle runs a blurry circle around me, then throws his skinny arms around my neck.
“Hi, Kyle.” I smile, then remember the last time he touched me in the practice gym when I got the worst cramp ever. I gently remove his arms. “If we’ve got you here, we’ll be taking down Bear before we know it.”
He grins and punches the air before taking off down the passageway. “Catch you later! Just on an errand!”
I run my fingers along the damp walls, appreciating the cool after the forest humidity. “How many people are here?”
“So far, we’ve accounted for about two hundred unadjusteds and adjusteds combined. But more arrive every day. We think we can house up to five hundred, and we’re in contact with neighboring hideouts.”
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“Impressive.” I examine the sinuous passageways, trying to picture a new life here, wondering how long we’ll have to stay.
We visit the lake, then the weapons chamber. A large room, walls lined with a palsy number of weapons. A few knives, an array of whittled spears and a couple of rifles. Homemade crossbows, maces, slingshots, and some things I don’t recognize. Not enough for a rescue mission, let alone an entire resistance movement.
Matt shows me some of the other smaller rooms dotted around. Some people seem to be training in combat. No doubt Claus started them all as soon as he arrived. A fairy flies over the head of a knife-throwing unadjusted. Young children score bull’s-eyes with handguns, while an elf takes out the legs of a teenager with indiscernible abilities.
“What are they practicing for?” I whisper in Matt’s ear so as not to distract the combatants.
“Their lives,” Matt replies, knitting his brow. “We won’t be able to live here forever. At some point, we’ll need to make a stand.”
“And rescue my parents.”
“Rescue?” Matt kicks at the ground.
“Yeah.” I stare at him hard. “Your sister too, and everyone else rounded up in a compound.”
Matt strokes his jaw. “Maybe eventually.”
“Eventually?” I look back the way we’ve come, wondering if I can remember how to get out. I’m still wearing my backpack. I have everything I need.
Matt moves his hand to his hip, seeming to read my mind. “There’s a price on your head, Silver. It’s not safe for you to go anywhere.”
“I will not sit around on my ass waiting for something to happen.” I push the words through gritted teeth.
Matt puts a hand on my shoulder. I shrug him off. “Silver, I know Francesca really wants your parents here. She thinks they’re an important symbol to the resistance, but more than that, they might have some ideas about how to get out of this genetic mess.”
I jab a finger in the air between us. “Now you’re talking some sense.”
“But we don’t have the supplies to launch a rescue mission. Yet.”
“What do we need?” I ask, heading toward the archway.
Matt follows me. “To start with, food. Then weapons.”
“OK, I’m on it.” I keep marching. “Where’s the nearest town?”
“Silver. Slow down.” Matt keeps up with my fast pace, both of us ducking under stalactites. “The nearest town has turned into a warzone. Altereds are killing each other. The bigger cities have unadjusted compounds to keep them all sane, but nothing near here. It’s not safe to go anywhere alone. It’s going to take time to put scout groups together.”
“I don’t have time,” I snap, but I stop walking. Both my parents could be dead already. But no, President Bear is too sadistic for that. He’ll use them to reel me in, and I’ll let him if it means I can get close to him.
“Silver.” Matt’s eyes settle on mine. I guard myself against his pity. “You just got here. Take a breath. Get some rest. We’ll figure it out.”
I look down at my scuffed boots. His words make sense. Of course they do. I can’t go off all half-cocked to fight President Bear. Just me and a knife and an eternal vat of anger.
Blowing out a long breath, I nod.
“Come on.” He grabs the upper loop of my backpack. “You’ve been carrying that backpack around all this time. Let me show you where you can dump it.”
The last passageway leads to the bedrooms. I understand why Matt air-quoted the word. The hollowed-out areas that pass for rooms lie the length of a twisting passage, stretching farther than I can see. Numbers and sometimes names are scratched onto the door arches. Sleeping bags and pillows have been thrown on the floors. A few have pictures of loved ones tacked to walls. Some have extra towels and blankets nailed over the entrance, offering a semblance of privacy.
Matt indicates some empty chambers for my use, and I dump what few belongings I have and lay out my sleeping bags. I recognize Joe’s backpack in the hollow beside mine.
We both look up as footsteps pad down the passageway. A familiar shape melts from the gloom.
“Mrs. Montoya?”
She steps forward and takes both of my hands in hers. “Please, call me Francesca.”
She’s swapped the mid-calf-length skirt for more practical hiking trousers, but her severe lower neck bun remains the same. Her dark hair is peppered with gray around her face and her stern nose adds a little attitude to her short stature. The spider brooch gleams brightly on the shirt. “I just heard about your arrival and your parents. I’m so sorry, Silver.”
Matt dips his head and I steel myself against demanding an immediate rescue mission.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Francesca says.
I’m about to pose a question about food runs or weaponry, but Matt shakes his head and I fall silent. “Thank you,” I say, then frown. “I’m worried about this price on my head. A million dollars—”
“Two million,” Matt says. “It’s gone up.”
I push that information down deep. “What do they want me for? They already have my parents.”
Francesca’s cheeks tighten. “My guess is your parents are unwilling to comply with Bear’s requests. If they have you, it will apply some pressure.”
I swallow hard. “Do I have to worry about someone here turning me in?”
Francesca doesn’t answer right away. She stares at me and her red lips turn pale. “It’s always prudent to be careful, but I would never turn you or anyone else away.”
Matt grabs my elbow and steers me toward the main chamber. “You can’t think like that. You’ll drive yourself crazy. Besides, everyone here wants the same thing we do: President Bear gone and their families out of compounds. There’s not enough money in the world to change that.”
I cross the fingers on both my hands, knowing it’s childish but still hoping it will help. “I really hope you’re right.”
I hide behind Matt as we enter the chamber. A growing line leads to the kitchen, where people emerge with bowls of soup and fresh rolls. Joe joins us as I inhale the aroma of warm bread and venison. Ahead, a fairy hovers.
I tap the side of Matt’s head with my knuckles. “Are you sure we’re all on the same side?”
Matt chuckles. “I’ve talked to quite a few of them. They were being forced into careers pigeon-holed by their nanites. They’re unhappy too, Silver.”
“But a fairy? Really?” Although I’ve learned to give Joe the benefit of the doubt, he’s still a rarity among the mentality of bulks. I know I should give this fairy the same opportunities, but something about the sight of those shimmering wings sets my teeth on edge. They remind me of someone I don’t want to be reminded of. Several someones.
But I can’t take my eyes off her either. There’s something about her wings. Although iridescent like most altered butterfly wings, that’s where the similarities end. This fairy’s wings shimmer and change color, from pearlescent pinks to opal whites to the yellow of sandy beaches. They flutter faster than a hummingbird, allowing her to maintain a distance a few inches off the ground, and shimmer in a pastel rainbow. Silver flecks decorate her long, lavender hair, sparkling in the dim light. She turns, and the most beautiful violet eyes settle on Joe.
“Erica?” Joe says. “Is that you?”
A huge grin spreads across the fairy’s face, showing off a daintily pointed chin and a perfect button nose. Her eyes light up. “Joe? Oh my God! It’s so good to see you. When did you get here?”
He steps closer to her, smiling. “Just arrived today. You?”
“Last week, with Addison and Naomi. Do you remember them from school?” Her hands cycle a mile a minute, almost as fast as her wings, and they touch Joe’s shoulders often.
The cleft in the center of Joe’s chin deepens as he smiles. “Sure. Of course. How are you?”
Annoyance flashes through me.
Matt chuckles. “Happy reunions everywhere.”
“Mm.”<
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Erica’s wings shimmer in different colors, from russet oranges to the deep reds and purples of an eastern sunset, as they continue talking. For some reason that annoys me even more.
I toe the ground and keep my eyes off Joe and the fairy, their reunion a little too physical for my liking. “I can’t believe you let a fairy in here.”
Matt raises an eyebrow. “She’s not like the ones at school.”
One of the few things I enjoyed about my trek through the woods was not having to lay eyes on a single fairy. I left Annabelle and her mean-girl crowd behind. The one time they got their hands on me, years ago, before I started karate training, they stuck my head in the toilet. Not an original form of bullying, but effective. I refused to go to school for a week, and when I finally admitted to Mom what happened, she was the one to suggest karate.
“And didn’t you befriend a bulk?” Matt asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Aren’t they just as bad?”
“Joe’s different.” I catch sight of him still talking to Erica, their heads dipped, laughter widening their smiles. The food line edges forward.
Grabbing two plates of bread and a small portion of venison, Matt frowns.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I thought we were scheduled for more food than this.”
I look at the metal plate. Half a roll and a large ladleful of steaming soup with chunks of venison. It isn’t a lot, but it’s enough.
His eyes sweep over the crowd, scanning the serving line. “Food has been going missing.”
I follow his gaze as an icy tickle creeps down my neck. “Missing?”
“Or maybe we just have a lot more people here now, plus the healed people eating more.” Balancing his plate and cup in one hand, Matt rakes a hand through his hair. “That must be what it is.” But he doesn’t sound convinced.
Finding a dark corner where I plan to keep my face hidden, we sit cross-legged, facing each other. The fairy flutters around Joe, throwing her head back and clutching her stomach as she laughs at something he says. I can see the amusement in his eyes across the chamber. He loves to make people laugh. Is that what he was doing in the forest?
The Unadjusteds Page 9
