Rise of the Scorpion

by Scott McCord

  “Rookie mistake, Ben, you should have let us go and tracked us down later,” I call. “I’m impressed though, I never heard you following…not once.” I lower my bow. “At least not until you chased us, boneheads. You have to be more careful.”

  Jeremy moves up beside his brother. “You really didn’t know we were there?”

  I shake my head. “You two have skills.” The boys give each other a congratulatory shoulder bump, but the delight on their faces evaporates the instant Jack steps forward. He is unamused.

  “What are you doing here?” Jack snarls.

  The boys’ eyes fall to their feet.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Uhh…we didn’t know where you were going,” Ben answers.

  “And we thought you might get hungry,” Jeremey adds. “We brought some leftover rabbit.” He raises a pouch in his hand.

  “Plus, you forgot a blowgun, so we got ours.”

  “And also…we have rabbit.”

  “I must look like I’ve been pounded in the head with a rock. Do you think I’m stupid?” Jack growls. “You’re no more than a couple of nosy little girls.”

  “Hey,” I protest, but Jack doesn’t notice.

  “If I’d wanted you along, I’d invite you.”

  “But camp is boring with everybody gone, and Rosie never wants to play with us anymore,” Jeremy whines.

  “We just wanted to help. We didn’t think you’d be so mad,” Ben says.

  “Don’t try pulling that crap. You were spying—making some kind of game out of following me and Mim. You’re only pouty and sorry now because you got caught.” Jack sniffs and rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “If you get back to camp right now, go straight there and nowhere else, I’ll give you a punishment when I get home. But if you give me any guff or do anything other than what I say, I’ll tell Mary, and what happens after that will be up to her.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. I’m so sorry.”

  “Please don’t tell Mary. We’ll go home.”

  “I promise, we’ll go straight home and wait right there for you.”

  “Please don’t tell Mary. Please, please don’t.”

  “Please don’t do it, Jack.”

  The two tough boys are instantly transformed into sniveling babies with the threat of Mary. I wonder what she actually does that makes Ben and Jeremy prefer Jack’s discipline to hers. It’s laughable, sometimes, how a mother trains her sons…or in this case, her adopted sons.

  “What I tell or don’t tell depends on what you do next,” Jack says.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Do you want us to leave the rabbit?”

  I’m not upset about the boys’ shenanigans, and the whole spectacle of Jack doing his best to tame Ben and Jeremy is heartwarming. I try not to let my amusement show as Jack and the contrite children dance on the blurred line of love and discipline. Jack wouldn’t be happy if he knew how much I was enjoying the whole exchange.

  I smile…then feel it…a tingle, almost, at the nape of my neck.

  “Shhh,” I interrupt. The conversation stops, Jack glances at me, and the boys look up. I wait…there…again…instincts fire, and I drop low to the ground. Jack and the boys do the same. Questions flash in Jack’s eyes. I shake my head, uncertain of what my senses are saying. Something doesn’t belong, and we’ve let it get too close. I should know better, but I thought we were safe here.

  I signal Jack to stay put while I push forward, moving slow as cool molasses to the cover of a large boulder overlooking a tall embankment. I lean with my back against the rock and string an arrow. I’m not sure I can get a look at whatever it is without giving myself away. I take a breath. I’d feel better if Ben and Jeremy weren’t so close. I stand, draw back on my bowstring, inch to the side, and lean out from the boulder... easy…easy…just enough to see without showing too much.

  The drop-off is steep, and I’m thankful for the protection of high ground. I scan the thicket along the bottom. What the hell? It’s like a weird dream where everything is out of place, and you only know how deadly something is by how innocent it seems. She’s there, about sixty feet from the foot of the bank, moving directly toward me, strolling along like she’s supposed to be here. The girl doesn’t see me as she picks her way closer. I stay frozen, willing myself to fade into the landscape, as I take in the odd sight, trying to understand what I’m seeing. I can’t. She must be a Community child, but why is she here? I lean back, taking cover behind the boulder again.

  “What do you have?” Jack whispers.

  “You’re as bad as the boys, following me up here,” I whisper back.

  “You may think you’re in charge Mim, but you’re not.” Jeremy and Ben slide in silently beside Jack. He doesn’t seem to notice. “What do you have?” Jack repeats.

  “A girl,” I say.

  “A girl?” Ben mouths. “What kind of girl?”

  Jack’s brow furrows with confusion.

  “A dangerous one,” I answer.

  “I want to see,” Ben pops, scrambling for the side of the boulder. I’m too late to stop him, but I grab Jeremy by the wrist when he tries to follow. He yanks to break free, so I give him a sharp rap on the skull with my bow to make him stop. His face twists in pain and disbelief as he rubs the top of his head with his free hand.

  “Ow, that hurt,” he complains.

  Jack grabs Ben by the shoulder and snatches him back to cover. Ben struggles for a moment, but Jack squeezes down in a demonstration of power—a reminder of who’s boss and the futility of going against him. Ben relaxes, and the silent commotion ends.

  “Are you trying to get us killed?” I hiss.

  “Come on, Mim, it’s just a girl,” Ben answers. “She probably needs help.”

  His insolence ticks me off. “This isn’t a game, that kid down there is ten times more dangerous than the King and Queen rolled into one. She could be the end of everything.”

  He pooches his lips and rolls his eyes. If we didn’t need to be silent, I’d knock the little turd’s head right off his shoulders.

  “What does she look like?” Jeremy asks.

  Ben smiles at his brother. “Pretty.”

  “Enough,” Jack snarls, and the boys fall silent. He looks at me. “You’ve seen her, what do you think?”

  “We’re on high ground with good cover. She’s in bow range, but I didn’t see any weapons. The southern Edge isn’t more than a mile or two that way, right?”

  “Right,” Jack confirms.

  I raise a finger to the boys. “If anything happens, don’t go home, break south for Outside.”

  Jeremy looks to Jack. “It’s okay, bud, I’ll be with you,” Jack says, and Jeremy forces a smile.

  “We can’t leave her wandering around, who knows where she’ll wind up. I’ll talk to her…send her back. You three stay out of sight.”

  “I want to talk to her.” Ben says.

  Jack shakes his head. “No, we can’t let her see anybody but Mim. I don’t want her knowing how many we are. Unless she has one helluva explanation for being out here, we’re sending her home without seeing any more than she has to.”

  “But if she’s in trouble—” Ben starts.

  “We’ll help,” I say.

  “Agreed,” Jack adds. He looks at me and nods. “Good plan, let’s do it.”

  32

  Will

  “Will, you’re letting her get too far ahead.”

  “She’s fine, Thatch, I got eyes on her.”

  “But if something happens and we’re not close enough to—”

  “Something is supposed to happen,” Figg grumbles. “They’ll take her and lead us right back to their hole. Ven will send in the militia, and we’ll wipe the Shitters out once and for all…maybe even before they gut that little girl like a fish.” He smirks and shakes his head. “You’re worthless, you know that? Why are you even here, gimp?”

  “Shut up, Figg,”
Knox snarls. “Why are you here? We need you like we need another asshole.”

  “Ven sent me because he doesn’t trust you for shit. One word from me and—”

  “No one cares what you think,” I say to shut the squabbling down. “Thatcher promised that girl’s mom he’d look after her. I don’t expect you to know squat about keeping your word, Figg, so put it this way—Thatch makes Jeni feel safe, and when she feels safe she does her job, and when she does her job, we can do ours. Now if you have anything else to say, swallow it, or I’ll have Knox tie you to a tree, and we’ll tell Ven the Slitters cut you up for stew.”

  Knox’s eyes brighten. He grins and winks at Figg. Figg grimaces, but says nothing more.

  “Come on, Will, let’s push up. If Jeni climbs that bluff, we’ll lose sight of her.”

  “She won’t—she’s not stupid. She’ll walk along the base until it levels out.”

  “She’s a kid, she doesn’t know any better. Besides, I don’t like the looks of those boulders up there…too many places to hide…too many places to disappear. I promised her mother—”

  “I know, I know…okay, we’ll close the gap a bit, but not too much. We can’t afford to tip-off whoever may be watching. They have to think she’s a runaway, because if they know we’re here, not even God Himself will be able to protect that kid.”

  “I can’t lose her.”

  “I got it, let’s move.”

  I flash a hand signal, and we all go silent. With a fist and a short finger roll, I give the order to fan out and push in on Jeni’s position.

  Mim

  I return the arrow to the quiver on my back, squeeze down on the grip of my bow, swallow hard, and step out of my hiding place. The girl below doesn’t notice me as she continues toward the embankment. I watch for a moment. A thorn bush snags her dress, and she stops to pull herself free.

  “Hello,” I call. “And who might you be?”

  The child squints to see me better. “I’m Jeni,” she calls back, taking a step forward.

  “That’s far enough, Jeni,” I say. “Why are you here?”

  “Can’t say,” she answers. “I’m from Group 14 and…” she takes another step, “…so are you. Mim! Mim! It’s you, it’s really you! Remember me? You saved my mom. You gave me the red falcon feather. You’re here!” The girl looks over her shoulder into the woods. “Don’t worry, Thatch, it’s okay,” she yells, “you can come out, it’s not a Slitter!”

  Every nerve quickens in my body and goes tingling down my spine. Somebody is with her. This is a trap. I glance behind the boulder where Jack and the boys are hiding. I’m looking for answers, but there aren’t any to be found in Jack’s horrified eyes. His face is pale. “Jack?” I say, but he only stares. “Jack?” I say again, and he emerges from the momentary shock.

  “It’s going to be okay. Can you see who she’s calling?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Jack, where is Ben?”

  Will

  There’s a low course of indiscernible voices ahead. Jeni is talking to someone and then… she betrays us. “Thatch,” she yells, “come out.”

  Every nerve fires at once, sparking and cracking down my spine and out to my fingertips. Adrenaline blows through my veins, exaggerating everything, and making me feel dangerously exposed. Jeni has put us over a barrel of deep shit. The kid didn’t hesitate a moment to give us up. The whole plan is a bust, and now I’m just hoping we stay alive. I signal Thatcher to get down, but he shakes me off, signaling back he’s going for the girl. I turn my palm to the ground in a silent gesture for him to stay put, but he doesn’t care. He strings an arrow and moves forward as quietly as his bum leg will allow. He’ll die before he lets the Slitters take Jeni. Dammit!

  Knox and Figg look to me when they see Thatcher pushing up. A quick hand flourish tells them to keep low and move up for support. I don’t like this at all. We won’t be hard to spot from the rocks, and the high ground gives enemy archers a devastating advantage. There’s a good chance we’ll be dead in a few minutes.

  We creep in, doing our best to keep cover in the thicket. My eyes are on Thatcher as he closes in on the girl. There’s no way of knowing what we’re coming up against…we’re going in blind…probably out-matched. At any second an arrow or a dart will come whistling in from some unknown place in the trees, ending all of this in blood soaked buckskins and plundered bodies.

  Thatcher is nearly to Jeni. If he can grab her, we might be able to cover his escape from here…and then we’ll run like hell.

  “That’s far enough, sport,” a Slitter calls from the rocks above. “Why are you here?”

  Thatcher is spotted, but I can’t see and I don’t have a clean shot. I need to get closer.

  “I asked you a question,” the Slitter demands.

  “That’s Thatch. He’s a Scorpion, but he’s my friend. He isn’t like a regular Scorpion. He’s funny, tells good stories, and he looks after me for my mom,” Jeni replies.

  “You don’t wear a Scorpion uniform,” the Slitter’s voice echoes down the rock face.

  “Do I know you?” Thatcher asks.

  “You sure do,” Jeni answers, “that’s Mim. She kicked your butt in the Grand Championship, remember?”

  My head swims at her name, and the whole world spins into a dream. Like morning fog, I can’t help rising from cover. Everything around me melts to a blur as I drift to where Thatcher stands, staring up at a ghost I’ve missed for so long.

  “Will, Will,” Figg hisses from the bushes. “It’s a trick. Snap out of it before you get us killed.”

  “Is this some kind of trick?” I ask the ghost in the rocks. “You’re gone. You’re lost. How can this be? Where have you been?”

  “It’s not what you think. Nothing is like you think. I’ve come to show you. I’ve come for Gas and Ellie too.”

  “Thatcher,” Knox hisses, “you’re exposed. Grab Will and get down.”

  My initial instinct is to drop my bow and go to her. I want to, but suspicion colors everything I see. Thoughts race across my brain, turning over the possibilities, and finally dredging up buckets of unexpected anger. Is this really Mim? Where has she been? What has she been doing? Faith runs through my fingers like dry grain, and I’m powerless to hold on to any of it. For so long I’ve wanted Mim to be alive, to come home, but now the sight of her only provokes me. I jump to easy conclusions, and I bite my lip to push away the pain.

  “Ellie…is dead. Mom and Dad are dead. Tommy’s mother is dead. I thought you…were dead. I looked for you, Mim. Where have you been?”

  “Ellie is dead?” The anguish in Mim’s voice rolls down the embankment like teardrops. My heart dips. I want to put my arms around her, and tell her everything is okay. “How?” she asks.

  “At the arena, in the Grand Championship.”

  “Trampled?”

  I shake my head. “She never made it out of the stands. It was Evan’s apache.”

  I expect her to lean against the rock or crumple to the ground in tears, but she doesn’t. She only stares down on me with her bow in hand. I’m sure she knows it was my fault.

  “And your parents? Tommy’s mom?” she continues.

  “Slitters cut their throats while they slept. Snuck in and butchered them like chickens in their own tents.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “No, Mim, it’s not,” Jeni pipes up. “The Slitters got them good. Mama says we were lucky it wasn’t us.”

  “Utugi don’t kill people.”

  Thatcher moves for Jeni.

  “What’s Utugi?” I ask.

  “That’s close enough, Scorpion,” Mim warns Thatcher. She hasn’t raised her bow, but I recognize the threat in her voice, and Thatch wisely does as she says. I need to get her talking again so Thatcher can grab Jeni and get out of range.

  “What’s with you Mim? Are you a Slitter?”

  “There’s a lot more happening than you know, Will. I need you to—”

  “I asked you a question. Are y
ou a Slitter?”

  “I told you to stay put, hop-along.” Mim’s attention goes back to Thatcher as he tries to slide closer. “Now walk yourself over to Will, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

  “We just want the girl,” I say.

  “You’ll get her back soon enough,” she answers, “but right now I need your other two Scorpions to stand where I can see them.” I hesitate. “There are a lot more of us than there are of you,” Mim says. “Tell them to get up.”

  I have no choice and it doesn’t matter anyway, so I give the signal for Knox and Figg to rise from cover. “There,” I say, “what now?”

  “Leave, go back where you belong—your side of Middle Ground.”

  “Our side…meaning this is your side?”

  “You heard me.”

  “We’re not leaving without Jeni.”

  “If you want to leave at all, you are.”

  “Mim, you can’t take that child. What have they done to you? What is—”

  My blood runs cold when I notice the blade strapped to her hip. The familiar grip, the distinctive guard, there couldn’t possibly be two in the world.

  “Is that my knife?” I ask.

  “Quit stalling, Will. Get your men out of here.”

  A deep loathing comes over me, wringing dry every mixed emotion I have left for the Slitter in the rocks. I may have loved her once, and the thought turns my stomach.

  “Is that my Bowie?” I demand.

  “It is,” she says.

  “That knife came from my parents’ tent.”

  “It did,” she confirms.

  “They loved you like a daughter. Why did you do it? And why Tommy’s mom? My god, what kind of monster are you?”

  “Slitter!” Thatcher yells, draws his bow and sends an arrow whistling into the underbrush.

  Mim

  My insides collapse to shambles. I don’t understand. What does it mean? How can the news of Ellie, Tommy’s mother and Will’s parents be true? I haven’t told Ellie and Gas about New Hope yet. They don’t know about their house or their garden. It’s too late. I’ve taken too long to come back, and now everything is different. Will is different, and I don’t trust him. I want to, but all of this death, all of this Scorpion crap—is he still my friend? He won’t hear anything I say right now, I’ll find him later when he’s by himself and make him understand. Tell him the Utugi are not murderers. He’ll listen when I get him alone.