“I had a year of sixth form drama,” she said.
Cade had no idea what that meant. He shrugged and turned to see Bea sawing away with the axe blade, her hand working frantically back and forth. Not at the thick branches that latticed them in, but instead at the twine tied tightly along the edges that kept the cage’s side in place. But Bea’s hands were shaking, her nerves getting the better of her.
“Let me,” Cade said, holding out a hand. Relieved, she went to give it to him.
“Bea, don’t gi—” Amber hissed, but it was too late. The axe was his.
There was a moment of panic, neither Grace nor Amber able to relinquish the guard, while Bea and Trix were frozen in place, horrified.
Cade rolled his eyes and shuffled closer to the bars, then began sawing at the twine himself.
“Guess that’s sorted, then,” Trix muttered.
With his steady hands, Cade was soon through the first few knots, the cordage parting beneath the sharp blade. Soon there was only one more tie to cut—with it gone, the entire backside would fall from the cage.
“Are we taking him with us?” Grace hissed before the final slice. “Maybe we should ask him some questions first.”
Amber shook her head.
“Too risky,” she replied. “Outside.”
Cade nodded and cut the final strand, with Bea and Trix lowering the side of the cage to the ground.
Then they were out. But a new problem faced them. The gates to the compound were across the camp—past the sleeping men and the fire. And they had to figure out what to do with the guard.
A sick thought crossed Cade’s mind. It’d be better if they killed the guard first.
Is this what I’ve become?
“Axe,” Amber said, holding out her hand.
Cade hesitated, wondering if she’d had the same thought. He handed it to her—this was her plan after all. Lacking a weapon, he picked up the length of chain—maybe they could use it to tie up the boy later.
It clinked as he stuffed it into his pocket, and Amber glared at him before pressing the axe against the guard’s throat.
“Stay quiet, and I might just leave you somewhere outside where the monsters won’t get you.”
“Dinosaurs,” Cade muttered under his breath.
Amber ignored him, instead looking at the boy, waiting for his answer. His eyes widened in panic, clearly terrified of being beyond the palisade. But the sharp blade of the axe was a far worse alternative. The guard let out a breath and nodded.
“Let’s go.”
With the guard’s neck still in Amber’s headlock, the group skirted the edge of the palisade, working their way to the gates. There, Cade could see a heavy wooden bar blocking it. They could lift it in a pinch. But all the while, he searched for clues. Anything that might help him understand who these men were. But there was nothing. Just footprints in the grass, the long wooden table, and the men. This was a staging area, nothing more.
Finally, they reached the gates, and both Cade and Grace lifted the bar, struggling beneath the weight. Only then did the doors creak open. Too loudly. Grace grabbed Cade’s arm, stopping him from opening it farther, then one by one, the girls pushed through the narrow gap they had created.
Soon it was only Amber and Cade left.
“Go on,” she urged.
It was then that the guard made his move. In a sudden motion, he wrenched himself free from Amber, unleashing a wordless yell. He stood there, as if surprised to still be alive, while Amber’s axe hung limp in her hand. Cade’s fist was moving before he even knew it, slamming into the guard’s chin with a crack.
The guard collapsed, and Cade’s hand hurt like hell, but there was no time to check if he’d knocked him out. There were stirrings from the sleeping men. One sat up, bleary-eyed.
Amber grabbed Cade’s arm and tugged him through, even as the man called out in a language they couldn’t understand, still unaware of their escape. Cade stopped just on the other side of the gates.
“What are you doing?” asked Amber.
“Buying us time,” Cade said, yanking his arm away.
He still had the chain in his pocket, and now he ducked back through the gap in the gate doors and threaded the chain around the iron holders that the bar had rested upon, keeping the loose ends in his hands.
There was a shout of anger from within as he ducked back through the doors and pulled them near closed behind him, the ends still sticking through the crack. Footsteps thudded across the grass, followed by more yelling. Cade knotted the chain once, then twice for good measure.
A huge weight slammed against the door, but the rusted chain held, the lumpy knot pressing against the door. He turned, only to see the girls were already running. Amber alone had stayed, the axe raised, lips tight with fear and fury.
“I didn’t wait for you,” she blurted as Cade raised his eyebrows at her. “I was going to buy them time.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Cade said.
There was a rough path ahead of them, but the girls had run into the trees, hoping to lose them in the jungle.
A second blow cracked behind them, and this time there was the sound of splintering wood. A bloodshot eye peered through the door gap, followed by a roar of rage.
“It won’t hold them for long,” Cade said. “Let’s go.”
They broke into a run, even as more blows fell on the gates.
“Do you know which direction?” Amber panted.
“Anywhere but here.”
CHAPTER
30
It was almost impossible to run in the darkness. Amber and Cade caught up with the others almost immediately, the girls fumbling through the black curtain of night, cursing as they tripped on the uneven ground and the branches tore at their faces and hair.
Soon it got marginally better, their eyes adjusting to the dim light, but progress remained slow. And soon enough, men with torches would be coming behind them. Cade didn’t think all would be forgiven if they were caught either.
The group stopped in unspoken agreement when they broke through to a clearing, leaning with their hands on their knees and taking great, sobbing breaths. Cade was struggling to keep up, the wounds in his legs beginning to ache. He was the last to struggle through the trees, huffing with relief at the brief respite.
“I’ve never touched so many cobwebs in all my wretched life,” Trix wailed, slapping at herself with her hands. “I must be crawling with spiders.”
Cade couldn’t help but agree with her. He went to stand beside Amber, who was itching and pawing at her hair. He wouldn’t be surprised if a few insects had taken up residence there.
“Bastard,” Amber snapped.
Cade held up his hands.
“I’m doing my best. Just give me a minute.”
“Not you,” Amber groaned. “That boy with the pigtails. If he’d just…”
“… let you chain him up and leave him helpless in the jungle to get eaten?” Grace finished off Amber’s sentence, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Maybe after a nice interrogation by the mad girl with the axe? I’m surprised we got as far as we did.”
“Point taken,” Amber sighed.
“Would have liked interrogating him though,” Cade said, straightening. “I would love to know where he came from.”
“Don’t you mean when he came from?” Trix asked. “He’s from the future, like you, right?”
She only sounded slightly sarcastic. That was an improvement.
Cade shook his head.
“I’m not sure. From what I know of this place, most people come from much farther in the past than you—there are dinosaurs here after all. But that doesn’t mean he’s from another time.”
“Oh? And what year do you think it is now?” Amber asked. The sarcasm was positively dripping from every word. Cade answered her regardless.
“If I had to guess, I’d say we’re in the same time period as where I came from. I’m yet to see anyone from the future, which would suggest I’m
the most ‘up-to-date.’”
His words were met with silence. And yet, there was so much more to say. More to tell them.
The qualifying round. Being a contender. The Romans, the gods, the end of the goddamned world. The Codex. Even now, it was still following him, for he could hear its pushing through the leaves above him. It had yet to reveal itself, and Cade wasn’t entirely sure why it was invisible at all.
But now didn’t seem like the right time to tell them he wanted them to join him in a fight to the death.
“We should get moving,” Amber said, staring into the darkness.
“I don’t know,” Grace said. “We’ve been running for an hour … and there’s things out here. We keep crashing around, and something’s bound to come across us. And we could be running in circles for all we know.”
“So what do you suggest?” Amber said. “That we just stay here, wait for those men to get us?”
“It’s dark for them too, even if they have torches!” Grace replied. “And there’s a reason they sleep behind a palisade. I bet they spent ten minutes looking for us and went back to camp. They’re probably as scared to be out here as we are. More so, really, because we don’t even know what is out here.”
“Dinosaurs,” Cade muttered.
“Shut up,” they snapped in unison.
Cade shut up.
“We wait here, then,” Amber said. “But as soon as there’s daylight, we move on.”
“Should we sleep?” Bea asked in a quiet voice.
“You think we’ll sleep … out here?” Trix asked.
“Never mind,” Bea said, sitting cross-legged on the ground and putting her chin in her hands. Cade joined her, glad that the mossy soil was dry at least. The others soon followed, and they huddled together. Despite the climate, it was chilly, and Cade felt a little left out as the girls put their arms around one another. He sat at the edge of the circle, his hands tucked into his armpits.
In the mad rush, all they had heard was the crashing of branches and their ragged breathing as they tore through the jungle. But now, the night noises were loud and clear. The whine and chirr of the insects was a constant, while the discordant throaty coughs, whoops, and shrieks of the larger creatures made them shudder with every sound. Trix was right—there would be no sleep that night.
Trying to distract himself from the combination of the chill and his fear of nocturnal predators, Cade spoke up.
“So … you guys were a hockey team? I didn’t think they had many ice rinks in England.”
Even through the gloom, Cade saw the withering look Amber gave him.
“Not ice hockey, dumbass. Hockey. You Americans call it field hockey.”
So much for small talk. Amber relented, her furrowed brows unknitting.
“I was the captain. Grace, the goalie. Trix and Bea were our wingers. The others…”
“I don’t want to talk about them,” Bea said quickly.
Amber rubbed her shoulder and forced a smile at Cade.
“So, tell us about the future.”
Her voice was only half-joking. Cade shrugged.
“What do you want to know?”
“Do they have flying cars?” Trix asked.
“Nope,” Cade said. “But they have electric ones.”
“Did we go to Mars?” Bea asked. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like on Mars.”
“Um…,” Cade said. “We sent some robots up there.”
“And did they find anything?” Trix demanded.
“Uhhh,” Cade said, searching his memory.
He shook his head.
“Gosh, the future kind of sucks,” Grace said sarcastically, though Cade was pretty sure she still didn’t believe him. They would though. Eventually.
For a moment he considered asking the Codex to reveal itself. Maybe that would convince them? Then again, it would likely freak them out even more.
Cade turned his head. Had he heard a branch crack?
He heard it again. Louder this time. He wasn’t the only one. Together, the five of them stared into the darkness. More movement, so close that they could hear the footsteps on the ground. It sounded like a single person … or creature.
Had they sent the young guard out on his own to find them? Even alone, an armed, armored soldier could take them all on.
Amber was the first to stand, the axe held in front of her. Grace followed suit, hefting a fallen branch, while the other girls crouched behind them, unsure of what to do. Again, Cade wished he had his sword, but it was still in Quintus’s chamber.
He scrabbled his hands on the ground. No more branches—only a rock the size of a man’s fist. He clutched it like a stress ball.
A dark figure stepped out of the jungle, red-tinged moonlight glinting off a blade. For a moment there was only ragged breathing, the figure staring at them from the shrouded cover of the bushes he had emerged from. In the darkness, Cade saw he wore no helmet. A chance, then.
He hurled the stone over Amber’s shoulder, cursing as the misshapen object fell short, striking the figure’s shin.
“Heu, filius canis!” cried a voice, the blade thudding to the ground. The figure hopped on one leg, clutching his shin.
Amber yelled and charged.
“No, Amber!” Cade shouted.
He tackled her to the ground.
“Traitor,” Amber screamed. “Get him!”
Cade held the axe against the grass, while Grace lashed at them with her branch, hitting both of them as she flailed in the darkness.
“He’s my friend,” Cade bellowed.
Because he had recognized the voice, and the white streak in the figure’s hair.
It was Quintus.
CHAPTER
31
Cade lay on top of Amber in the darkness, staring into her face. Grace’s branch whipped down, once, twice, but the blows lacked conviction. He ignored the sting of them, focusing on wrestling the weapon from Amber.
Their faces were inches apart, and he could see the determination in her eyes. She gritted her teeth, snarling as she heaved the axe up. Her strength was surprising, but Cade had the upper hand, literally. Finally, she let the axe fall from her fingers, hissing with frustration. He picked it up and stood. Grace raised the branch threateningly.
“Please,” Cade said wearily. “Please don’t.”
Grace stopped, a look of confusion on her face.
“Quintus?” Cade said. “Oh … right.”
He gave Quintus a friendly wave, and the boy stepped out of the shadows, the Roman sword back in his grasp. He looked at Cade warily.
“How did you know it was him?” Amber snapped from the ground.
Cade ignored her, saddened by the look of distrust on his new friend’s face. Cade had thrown a rock at him after all.
“Sorry,” Cade said, raising his hands. “I thought you were one of the … other guys.”
Quintus grinned, somehow catching his meaning, and let the gladius fall to his side. He must have tracked them in the darkness after their escape, and been watching the camp. Cade wondered at the courage of the boy, to follow him through all that. To stay, into the night, waiting for an opportunity to rescue him. That was a debt that Cade couldn’t even begin to pay back.
He stepped forward and embraced the legionary. Felt the bones of his shoulders, the leanness of his back. Quintus was half-starved. Cade only wished he had some food to give him.
“Hello, are you deaf?” Amber demanded as Cade stepped away. “I asked you guys a question.”
“Well, Quintus is deaf, actually,” Cade said, grasping her outstretched hand and tugging her to her feet. “But I recognized his voice.”
“Oh,” Amber said, staring at her feet shamefacedly. “Sorry.”
“What did he say?” Grace asked. “I missed it.”
“My Latin’s pretty bad, but even I remember what filius canis means,” Cade said, giving Quintus a quick grin. “We used to yell it at one another in class, and it drove the teacher
up the wall. It means son of a bitch.”
Quintus leaned forward, rubbing his shin with a wince. He didn’t seem to mind the conversation going on around him. Cade supposed the legionary was used to it by now, though he still regretted excluding him.
Meanwhile, the girls were speechless.
“You always forget the swear words last,” Cade said weakly, scratching his head.
“Ummm … why is he speaking Latin,” Amber asked.
Cade paused. Of course. They didn’t know about that.
“Quintus is a Roman legionary,” Cade said.
Amber ran a hand down her face.
“Bloody hell. What film is this from? Spartacus?”
“There is no film,” Cade groaned, exasperated. “I’m telling the truth.”
Amber opened her mouth to retort, but to Cade’s surprise, it was Bea who spoke up first.
“I don’t give a damn what’s true or not. All I know is that I don’t want to spend another minute in these woods. Can this Quintus take us somewhere safe?”
They looked at the young soldier, who had chosen that moment to pick his nose and examine his findings.
“Hey,” Cade said, waving to get his attention. Quintus looked up and smiled again.
“You know how to get back to Hueitapalan?”
He sounded out the syllables of the last word, in case Quintus could read his lips and recognize the city’s name. No luck though. Not in this darkness.
“Back to where?” Trix asked, incredulous.
Cade pointed into the jungle and mimed walking with his fingers. Quintus’s eyes lit up, and he nodded.
But instead of heading for the trees, he walked farther into the clearing, nodding politely to Bea and Trix. He stood between them and looked up, then held up a hand with the thumb sticking out.
“What on earth is he doing?” Trix whispered.
Cade shrugged.
“Hell if I know.”
“I know,” Grace said. “He’s looking at the stars.”
Of course.
Cade walked over to Quintus, trying to follow the length of the boy’s arm with his eyes. They were lucky—the clearing had been made by a fallen tree, the rotting log somewhere behind them. Through the gap it had left, Cade could see the stars. With everything that had happened the past few days, he hadn’t had much of an opportunity to examine the sky properly, having only brief glances as he ran from some danger or another, or seeing hints of it filtering through the canopy.
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