Destroyed

by Madeline Dyer

  Is she going to have the baby? Jana mouths at me, and her face is a mixture of revulsion and fear.

  I shrug. How would I know?

  I stand up, uncurling myself from Corin. My back clicks as I brush down my shorts, then swipe sand and dust from my legs. “I think we need to leave now. If the drones did detect us, the Enhanced are going to be on their way.”

  “Wouldn’t they have killed us already if they had found us?” Esther asks. “They had bombs, and I don’t want to leave.”

  “We can’t stay here much longer,” Taras says. “Divine Caves are for emergencies only.”

  “I’d say this whole time is a state of emergency,” Corin mutters.

  “It’s quiet outside.” Taras stands, his joints creaking. With his uninjured arm, he grabs onto the wall for support, gnarled fingers sliding over the rough surface like talons. “I will have a look out there. If it’s quiet, we move on.” He glances at me. “You must be able to feel it? The tension here?”

  I can. The cave’s air is heavy and dense, not like it was when we arrived.

  Taras leaves. My eyes follow him as far as they can, and I can’t help but think it should be me going out there. I’m the powerful Seer. I’ve still got most of my powers. In the night, as we waited, Taras told us he couldn’t access half of his. Jana was the same. I’ve only lost one power. Two, if I include my spirit-summoning, if it really won’t work anymore, though it doesn’t feel like it’s gone in the way my body-sharing is. Just that it no longer works.

  But I don’t go after him.

  My gaze locks onto the stone wall with the drawings. Both babies are still there. No terror and darkness in a cloak tormenting one baby. I must’ve imagined it. My head’s clearer now. I look at the other image, the Lost Souls and Untamed working together. If I can’t summon spirits, how do we achieve that when none are here?

  “I don’t like this,” Esther says.

  “None of us do,” Jana snaps, her tone more than hostile.

  I shoot Jana a look—but she’s turned the other way. My lips are salty as I press them together. My stomach growls a little, feels uncomfortable. I can’t remember when I last ate.

  “It will be okay,” Corin says.

  Jana snorts.

  A minute later, Taras returns, tells us it’s safe.

  We stand. We walk.

  Outside, the air is hazy, tastes sour. I wrinkle my nose. Esther’s face pales, and she takes several deep, steadying breaths.

  “Following the coastline again?” Corin asks.

  I almost expect Taras to answer, but he doesn’t. He looks at me.

  I swallow hard, think. Try to feel something. And I should know, shouldn’t I?

  Yet there are no voices inside me now. The Sarrs have retreated—the power’s still in me, I know it is, it’s just not as obvious, not as controlling—because it’s safer now? I feel clearer.

  “That way.” I point inland, but not near the site the bomb took, and I don’t want to look at the sea.

  The others nod. My word is good enough for them. The dog barks.

  Taras and Jana head off. Corin and Esther are behind them, and I watch the four of them. The dog looks back at me, eyes inquisitive, an act that makes the smallest of smiles touch me.

  I run a hand through my hair—so much shorter than I’m used to, thanks to Raleigh—and take a deep breath. I listen again for internal instructions, but silence fills the air.

  Corin looks back, sees I haven’t moved. He stops, and so does Esther.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be right there,” I shout, breathe deeply again, fill my lungs with—

  I see it, nestled in the dust and the jagged edges of rock fragments, placed there with care.

  Bright yellow. The kind of yellow that is comfort and safety and beauty.

  A promise and a lie.

  An augmenter.

  My heart goes cold.

  Raleigh.

  A gift from him.

  Has to be.

  He’s been here. He knows I’m here.

  “Sev?” Corin’s only feet away now, and panic fills me. He mustn’t see it. I just know he mustn’t, and I don’t know why, because I don’t want the augmenter. I shouldn’t feel like I need to hide it from him.

  I leap forward, hear the crunch of glass under my feet, feel it through the soles of my shoes, like it’s trying to cut me, punish me for choosing the other path.

  “Never again,” I whisper to Raleigh, because he’s listening. He has to be, even though my powers tell me he’s not here now. “Never.”

  I join Corin, take his hand, and pretend I never saw it, keep pretending as we walk on, walk for what seems like days.

  A fine layer of sand sticks to my lips. I hate the way it feels, want to drag my hand across my mouth, rub it off—get all the badness off me—but I can’t do a thing. Not when I’m…here. Because we can’t be.

  We’ve only walked for a few hours. Or was it really days? My mind is a mess because of the augmenter, even though I didn’t take it. But every step I’ve taken, I’ve seen it. I know I should tell the others—because Raleigh’s found me, could be watching me right now—but I don’t. Something stops me.

  Esther shakes her head, then takes a step back. She shields her eyes from the swirling dust and blinks several times. “No, we weren’t this close to—no.” She touches her stomach, then turns away.

  Corin’s on my other side, completely still. His mouth has dropped open, and the muscles in his brow tighten as he stares at the land in front of us.

  “It can’t be.” Esther’s voice is too high-pitched. “Just can’t be. We were nowhere near….”

  “But the spirits moved us,” Corin says. “Right after the Dream Land—”

  “Not this close. We would’ve recognized it. And the sea—the sea’s not that close. We can’t have been this close all the time.”

  “It looks like it though.”

  I don’t know what to say. Because logic tells me it both can and can’t be the place.

  “But the mountains,” Esther whispers. She turns and makes eye contact with me, and I see the plea in her eyes. “The mountains aren’t right….”

  Nothing looks the same. Not now. The mountains are there, but they’re broken. Pain pours off them, and rocks are everywhere. Some of the shrubs and low-lying foliage is still alight on the horizon: a soft glow caressing the contaminated sky. The air is gritty, smoky. Far away, I can hear long-forgotten shrieks—but they’re tinny, like they echo from a different dimension, ghosts. Sparks rise and fall.

  My terrier barks twice—short, sharp sounds—then scurries off, nose to the ground as he examines what remains: piles of wood and plastic and debris. He sniffs a battered tin pan.

  I turn my head. The shacks to the right are barely standing, and they’re the better ones. The others are broken, jagged, on the floor, drowning in blood only I can see. Blood that the world is alive with. I see its heart, beating, bursting, dying. Everything is dark red, warm, the blood of the world, freed from its skin. Burning, taking, consuming. The only thing left.

  “No, it can’t be,” Esther says. “Can’t.”

  My dog howls. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. Jana and Taras look confused.

  “It is.” My voice cracks, and I look around, my stomach twisting. The land’s changed, like someone’s cut up a map and then stitched it back together, careless of where anything goes in the new arrangement.

  I step forward, pick up the tin pan. The last time I saw this, Marouska was serving soup out of it.

  “They’ve ruined it,” Corin whispers. “Why?”

  “Because that’s what the Enhanced do.” My voice is soft. Or maybe it was the destruction that did it. The destruction I caused.

  I take a deep breath and look at what’s left of Nbutai.

  “What do we do?” Corin asks. His face is flushed with heat and sweat, but the coming air will be icy—I just know it will. Corin takes a step closer. “Sev?�
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  Something cracks high above me, and I freeze, look up: soot and debris, and a large rock. It falls a hundred yards away. Dust plumes up, reaches us, and we all turn, our backs to it.

  My dog howls again.

  “We have to stay here,” Taras yells, his voice coarse as he and Jana join us. “There’s going to be another storm, but that hut over there looks okay. There must be some game around here too. We need to find food, rest a bit—properly, before we travel to the Tareskl Peninsula and find my people.”

  “Your people?” Corin says.

  “Of course. They have been left unprotected, with no Seer.” He glances at Jana. “Your people too? Are you their only Seer? How many are in your group?”

  Every muscle in Jana’s forehead visibly tightens, and her eyes narrow. “Talking of people we will never see again is pointless.”

  “But we will see them again,” Taras says. “They are your family, we will look for them.”

  “I have no family. Not anymore.”

  “Why?” Esther asks. “You don’t know they’re dead.”

  Jana kicks at the ground. “Some of them deserve to be.”

  I inhale sharply and glance at the others. They all look at me, then each other.

  A strange silence radiates from Jana as she folds her arms, and then the five of us are moving, and it’s like we’re all pretending Jana didn’t say that. Because why would she? What could they have done?

  The closer we get to the shack, the sicker I feel. It’s Rahn’s hut—the last one standing—and part of me is convinced he’s going to be inside. Not his spirit—we don’t know where any of the Lost Souls are now—but his mortal body. Decomposed, maggot-infested. I can picture it now, even though logic tells me it can’t be there. But I still see it: limbs swollen, flesh peeling and yellowing. A sour stench.

  The drape over the door has vanished. Corin steps in first. I follow, and the rusty smell of old burning wraps around me. Instinctively, I look around—look for Rahn.

  It’s empty. His bed. Blankets. A wooden box, broken. Splinters reach up like hungry teeth. A dark red stain on the floor covering that I don’t remember Rahn having. Then again, I rarely went in his hut.

  Esther, Jana, and Taras squeeze in, and my dog. He presses against Esther’s legs, and a lump forms in my throat; he’s still keeping his distance from me.

  “The bed’s mostly intact,” Corin says, pointing behind me. “Esther, sit down.”

  “I’m fine,” she says.

  “Sit.” His tone is firm, and she does.

  Dark circles hang under her eyes, and the right side of her face is covered in small cuts. She was limping too, before. And heavily pregnant. I still can’t understand it, how my brother’s spirit could’ve made the baby grow so much. Or why?

  Esther wipes tears away, her movements fast, angry. “Why did they do that? Our village, our—”

  “It’s all right.” Corin leans over a small table and places a hand on her arm.

  There’s a blunt knife on the table, a little rusty now. My gaze lingers on it for a moment—and, for a second, I imagine blood on it. Corin’s blood. Then I shake my head.

  “This is your village?” Taras’s gaze is sharp as he turns to me. “Then it’s perfect. The place for you to bring all the Untamed, to unite us all here. It’s…” He frowns, looking up.

  I turn. My eyes widen. I stand up, take a step forward. “Meat?”

  And it is. A joint of raw meat. Pink, red, white. Looks like a deer’s leg or an antelope’s. It hangs from the ceiling by a thin piece of twisted metal. Looks fresh.

  Something moves in the corner. A dark shape.

  A person.

  Corin grabs the knife, pushes me behind him, just as I summon white light to my palm. I step around him, need to see the target and—

  The man jumps up, blankets flying, points a Luger at us.

  Untamed eyes.

  Pain snakes through me, up my spine, to my head—so much pain my vision blurs. I see the man and don’t see him. Both at the same time, because I’m not here, I’m—

  A loud click in my ears, and the pain vanishes. I’m back, my breath in ragged gulps, and I jolt.

  “Elf?” Corin’s voice shakes. “Is that you?”

  Elf’s eyes widen, and I almost expect his eyeballs to pop out. A savage scar runs down the left side of his face; the skin around it is purple and bubbly. He’s thin—very thin, cheekbones more pronounced than ever. He turns his head a little, and the movement’s enough to see his collarbone sticks out.

  Tension fills his body, and the gun in his hand trembles.

  Elf survived? He’s still here? Our village wasn’t completely destroyed?

  Yes. My eyes widen. I—I felt him, connected to him during the Dream Land’s destruction, when my soul was flitting from Untamed to Untamed. It was so quick—the changes so rapid—I didn’t have much time to process it then. But he’s here. Alive. Him.

  “Get out,” Elf snarls in a voice I’ve never heard him use. He inclines his head, and his eyes—so hollow, flat, no life in them—fix on me, before they dart back to Corin. “Get out or I’ll kill you. I will. Don’t believe I won’t.”

  I take a step back, feel sick. Elf’s Luger points straight at Corin.

  And Elf. It…it can’t be him.

  But I know it is. My Seer powers tell me.

  “Get out.”

  I hold my hands up. “Elf—it’s all right, it’s us.”

  “No, this is a trick,” Corin says. “It can’t be him. We can’t be at Nbutai. This place is a trick.” His hand lands on my arm. “Sev, we need to go.”

  “Yes, go, now.” Elf gestures with his gun.

  But I don’t. Because it’s Elf. It’s him—though he doesn’t sound like he did. But it’s not a trick. I just know.

  “It’s really him, Corin,” I say. “It’s—”

  “Get out!” Elf screams, lunges forward.

  He slams into Corin, and Corin stumbles, off-balance, and grabs me for support and—

  An elbow in my side. I fall, Corin too—and Elf’s on top of us, kicking, snarling. His saliva sprays across my face. Esther, Jana, and Taras shout, and hands batter against me as Elf screams, teeth and nails clawing, digging in. I feel the gun against my thigh for a moment, but then hands shove me down, my face against the dirt, weight on top of me. A knee jabs into my side.

  Corin swears as he shouts, and I shove hard at Elf, manage to sit up. A fist flies out, hits me. Esther screams just as there’s a loud crack. Blood splatters over me, but I can’t tell whose it is.

  Taras hauls me up and out of the scuffle, and my dog barks and positions himself in front of me, tail against my legs. His hackles rise as he growls at Elf.

  A flash of white light, and Taras grabs Elf, yanks him back. Somehow does it all with one arm.

  “Corin? Are you okay?” I crouch at his side, as he sits up, and keep one wary eye on Elf.

  “Let me have him!” Elf screams, fighting against Taras. Jana joins him, holding Elf back. Elf’s face turns red. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him,” he yells, saliva flying over the back of my hand. “Seven, get away from him!”

  “Elf, stop!”

  “No, he killed her!” Elf roars, kicks out. “Corin killed her! He has to die. He—”

  “Who?” Esther takes a step back just as Elf shoves Taras and Jana aside. “Who did he kill?”

  “Keelie!” Elf yells, veins popping on his forehead.

  “Stop at once!” Taras roars, and his voice gets inside me, inside all of us.

  Elf stops. Just freezes, holding the tension and anger in his balled fists. He glares at Corin. “He is a murderer.”

  “I—I didn’t.” Corin’s eyes are round. He glances at me, then back to Elf. “Keelie was dead when we left.”

  “We don’t know that. She could’ve been unconscious—”

  “She was dead. She told us where Seven was, and she died, Elf.”

  “—and you dragged me away from her,
wouldn’t let me bring her back. You made sure she died.”

  I gulp.

  The rescue mission. My rescue mission. The one that killed Keelie.

  “No! The Enhanced killed her!” Corin roars. “Not me! She was dead—Yani said it too, said we had to go. It wasn’t just me!”

  “No, you took her from me. It was you.” Elf jabs a skeletal finger at Corin. “You dragged me out of there. Not Yani. You. And I left her. My sister, my twin. Twins of the stars. You killed her!” Elf lunges forward again, and—

  A gunshot rings out.

  I freeze, a rushing sound in my ears.

  Jana shrieks, and my gaze jerks to her as Esther pulls her to the side.

  “What is—?” Corin screams, and he’s moving—not hit and—

  Everyone’s shouting, screaming, moving—and it’s too dark. I can’t see—blood, is there any blood? Who’s been hit? Who’s—

  “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!”

  The dog barks. A rush of fur against my legs, and I grab him, pull him back. He snarls, snaps at my face, his earlier protectiveness gone and—

  I see the gun. On the floor, where it was knocked from Elf’s hand?

  I lunge for it, grab it at the exact moment Elf goes for it, and I crash into him, his shoulder jabbing into me and—

  Screams fill my ears. So much pain and—

  I pull away from him, stumble. What the hell? But I’ve got the gun. The metal is strangely warm.

  Elf’s gone still. He’s staring at Esther from his position on the floor. Slowly, he reaches a hand up, as if to touch her stomach. She recoils, steps behind me.

  “A baby?” Elf shakes his head. Something cracks, and his expression slackens. His fists loosen. He moves his lips for a few seconds, then visibly gulps so his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “Children need protecting.”

  He backs away, sits down, back in the corner where we first saw him, and pulls a dark blanket around him, close to his shoulders. He’s shaking as he closes his eyes, but he lifts his arm up and points at Esther again.