by Terry Brooks
Hawk, walking point with Bear, had never seen anything like it. He wasn’t sure if it was a quirk in the weather pattern or a reaction to all the pollution, poisonings, and chemical warfare. Or if it was generated by a deeper, more pervasive climatic change that had been building for much longer than he had been alive. What he did know was that it made him uneasy. It made him want to gather up everyone whom he was supposed to lead to safety and get to where they were supposed to go.
When the earth rumbled later in the day, a violent shake that sent those walking to their knees and caused the AV to skid sideways so far it almost went off the road, he thought maybe this was a prelude to something much bigger. He glanced at Bear, down on his knees beside him, and shook his head.
“Smell the air,” the other boy said quietly.
Hawk did, taking a deep sniff. “Sulfur,” he said quietly.
Bear nodded. “Bad stuff, sulfur. We had a pool of it back on the farm, down by the south pasture. The smell was so bad that no one went near it. It could knock you out, make you real sick.”
Hawk glanced at the sky. “Maybe it will blow away by dark.”
It did, but the haze remained, thick and clingy, a visceral feeling to it. The Ghosts hunkered down in their coats and tried to breathe through parts of their clothing. The twilight was raw with its presence, the sky colored metallic and the surrounding countryside flat black and gray, as if there were no depth to anything.
They were passing through the hill country below the peaks, expectations of reaching their destination beginning to crowd in on their discomfort, when they saw what appeared at first as a soft glow against the horizon. But as the little company drew closer, the light became a glare, one that all of them instantly recognized.
“Watch fires.” Bear said it first. “All across the roadway ahead.”
Hawk nodded. “Someone’s blocking the way.”
“Militia,” Catalya declared, coming up beside him. “Wait here while I have a look.”
Without waiting for his permission, she bounded off into the darkness. Panther was slow coming up or he would have gone with her, Hawk thought, hearing the other boy mumble a low curse as he realized what had happened.
“You should’ve stopped her,” he snapped.
Hawk glanced over. “Don’t think that was possible.”
“Shut up, Panther Puss,” Sparrow muttered, shoving him aside as she shouldered her Parkhan Spray and stood braced and ready, facing out toward the fires. “Save it for those who need it.”
They waited impatiently, silently, a clutch of dark figures slowly disappearing into the deepening night’s shroud. Time slipped away on wings that flew swift and sure, and Catalya did not return. Hawk began to grow uneasy. The girl was smart and experienced, but one mistake among adults with weapons would undo all that in a moment’s time. If she had been seen, they would have already seized her and made her their prisoner. In that case, he would have to go in after her. Not Panther, who couldn’t be trusted with that sort of task. Not the way he felt about this girl. No, Hawk knew that he would have to do it.
Then all of a sudden she was back, appearing out of the night as if born of it, her slight figure materializing right in front of them.
“Frickin’ hell!” Panther snapped at her. “You shouldn’t of done that, going off by your own self! Who do you think you are, girl? You couldn’t wait for me?”
She gave him a glance. Then her eyes were back on Hawk. “It’s a militia of some sort, several hundred, maybe more. Planted right across the roadway and for some ways to either side. I couldn’t be sure. They almost had me. They’ve got some good ears and eyes in that bunch. I don’t know what they’re doing, but they’re set on holding this road. You can tell.”
Hawk nodded. “Then we have to go around.” He glanced at the others. “I don’t like trying this at night, but we have a better chance of not being seen if we do it now. What do you think?”
“I think we do it like you say,” Bear answered for the others, who just nodded. Except for Panther, who spit and walked away in disgust. With Panther, you never knew.
Hawk split them into two groups. He put Fixit at the wheel and Chalk beside him in the AV, with Owl, Candle, River, and Tessa in back. He put Sparrow on the AV’s roof with her Parkhan Spray. He took Panther, Bear, and Cheney with him, and put Catalya on point, her sharp senses their best defense against hidden dangers now that Candle no longer seemed reliable. He was sorry about that loss—sorry for Candle and for them. He had talked with Owl about it, tried to come up with a reason for it, but neither of them could solve the puzzle of the little girl’s problem. In any case, they could not rely on her. They would have to do the best they could with the new girl.
He glanced down at Cheney, and the big dog’s head lifted slightly, the dangerous eyes meeting his own. Cheney would help them if he could.
Catalya deposited Rabbit in Owl’s lap, and they set out. They moved off the highway and into a long rolling stretch of hills that were lightly wooded. Catalya took them northward on a course parallel to the fires, staying well back from where the militia would be keeping watch on the countryside. The AV rolled like a big, sluggish beast over the rough terrain, the engine a soft growl, but still audible from some distance away. Hawk wished they could muffle the sound further, but there was nothing he could do about it. A wind was blowing down out of the mountains, and sudden gusts cut into the low rumble and might fool anyone who didn’t know better. But Hawk didn’t think they could depend on that.
It took an hour before Catalya turned them east again, down a ravine and then up again along the windward side of a high berm. Suddenly they were moving through a blackness sheltered from the distant firelight, a landscape illuminated solely by moon and stars. The sky remained overcast, so there was little light by which to navigate, only enough so that the Ghosts were able to make their way. The north wind had died away, leaving the night still and empty-feeling about them.
They emerged from behind the berm into rolling grasslands. A heavy mist had moved in, settling in pools in the low places, in the ravines and depressions, like standing water concealing hidden depths. Hawk didn’t like it. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see anything or to judge accurately the nature of the terrain they were trying to cross. He caught up with Catalya and warned her in a hushed voice to be careful of sinkholes and rifts. She nodded without speaking, her eyes intense as she scanned the landscape ahead.
They continued, and the fog increased, growing heavier and thicker about them, rising slowly until they were wading through it. Catalya signaled for a halt and came back to huddle with Hawk.
“Can’t see anything now,” she admitted. “I don’t like it.”
Hawk glanced toward the watch fires south. They were almost clear of them now, some distance off, but still too close. “It can’t be any better for them,” he told her. “Maybe we should just wait this out, give it time to thin. Wait here. I’ll talk it over with the others.”
He was starting back, his mind made up, when he heard Cheney’s low growl. He looked left and then right, just in time to see a scattering of figures appear through the gloom, still far off, but coming closer.
He heard shouts and saw several of the figures pointing, and then the mist rose in a sudden swell and swallowed everything.
“Run!” he shouted to the others, waving for the AV to follow.
They charged ahead, angling away from the shadowy figures. Militia scouts, Hawk decided. Not that many, but they would be armed. Whether they had heard the Ghosts or just stumbled on them was difficult to say, but the result was the same.
Panther caught up to him, his Parkhan Spray held ready. “Can we take them?” he asked, breathing hard. “You and me?”
“No fighting!” Hawk hissed at him. “We don’t fight unless we have to!”
Panther grinned wickedly and sprinted ahead, as if looking for an excuse. Catalya went after him, giving Hawk a look of disgust as she went by. For him or for Pant
her, he couldn’t tell. Bear was lumbering just behind, and the AV was lurching through the fields, bouncing wildly across the rough spots.
He heard shots then, somewhere off to his right where they had first spied the militia scouts. The shots were sporadic and didn’t seem directed at anything in particular. Meant to scare them, he thought. He glanced around as he ran, trying to count heads. All he could see was Bear. The murkiness was growing thicker and heavier, more difficult to penetrate. Already the AV was gone, although he could still hear it. They were in danger of becoming separated, he realized. He peered ahead for Panther and Catalya, but he couldn’t see them.
“Bear!” he shouted. “Stay close!”
But Bear was swallowed in the haze. He couldn’t see Cheney, either.
He couldn’t see anyone.
INSIDE THE LIGHTNING S-150 AV, there was complete chaos. Everyone was yelling at once, mostly at Fixit because he was the one driving. They were shouting at him not to lose sight of the others, not to turn this way or that, not to run over anyone, not to hit any big holes, you name it. Even Owl couldn’t make herself heard above the shouting. Fixit was doing his best to stay focused on the task at hand, regardless of the wildness of the other kids, but he was having a hard time of it. He couldn’t see any of the Ghosts outside the vehicle; he could barely see to drive, the mist a thick blanket surrounding them on all sides. He could hear gunfire somewhere off in the distance, but he had no idea which direction it was coming from.
Chalk grabbed his arm, nearly causing him to lose control. “What’s happened to everyone?” the other boy yelled.
“Let go of me!” Fixit yelled back, jerking his arm free.
The wheel spun through his fingers, and he grabbed hard to steady it, but the AV skidded sideways, bounced, and then lurched ahead once more. By now Fixit had no idea where he was, let alone where the others were or the people firing weapons. He reached down hurriedly and switched on the loran. The landscape came into sharp focus, the AV a green dot against the flat, empty background, and he had his direction back again.
“Shut up!” he shouted at everyone yelling around him.
To his surprise, they quieted down instantly. He glanced angrily at them as he drove, eyes searching. “If you want to do something helpful, look for the others,” he ordered. “See if you can spot anyone in this muck!”
He slowed the vehicle, crawling ahead cautiously, and they all began searching the haze. Fixit rolled down their windows so they could hear better, maybe catch a hint of what was happening outside. Nothing. No weapons fire, no shouts, no sounds at all. Just the low rumble of the AV. He tried to think what else he could do.
“Over there,” River said suddenly, pointing left.
Fixit saw two shadowy figures making their way through the haze at a rapid pace, not quite running, but almost. They were slight of build, kids like himself. He swung the AV toward them, reaching down to snap the safety off the stun charges. He wanted to be ready, just in case.
“That’s Panther,” Owl said quickly.
The two figures heard them coming and stopped to wait. It was indeed Panther and, with him, Catalya. They were breathing hard as the AV rolled up to them, and they came over to peer inside.
“What’s happened to the others?” Panther demanded. “Where’s Bird-Man and Bear and Cheney?”
Fixit shook his head. “We got lost. We don’t know where they are. We were lucky to find you!”
“Well, you have to find them, too. Stump-head militia’s looking for them, somewhere back there.” He pointed in the direction from which they had come. His dark face glowered. “Don’t know where, exactly. Can’t see anything in this stuff.”
Catalya looked worried, unusual for her. “I thought I saw something else back there. Something big.”
The others stared at her. “Something big?” Panther repeated. “I didn’t see nuthin’.”
“If they’re behind us, maybe they can catch up if we just wait,” River suggested.
“Don’t think waiting around is a good idea,” Panther said at once. He glanced in at the control panel. “Hey, Fixit, you got a way of tracking movement on that thing? You know, finding anything else that’s moving around out there?”
Fixit frowned. “I don’t know. That wasn’t something Logan Tom taught me to do. He didn’t trust the loran. So I just use it to find directions. I haven’t tried using it to track anyone.”
“Well, try now.”
Fixit bent to the loran, fiddling with the switches and buttons, attempting to decipher what they would do. There were menus and choices of all sorts, and many of the words were unfamiliar to the boy.
“Wait,” Owl said suddenly from the backseat. “Ask Sparrow if she’s seen anything!”
“Sparrow?” Panther asked in confusion.
“She’s on the roof,” Owl explained, thinking even as she said so, Why is she so quiet? “Sparrow!” she called.
Panther and Catalya glanced quickly at each other, then at the AV roof and then back at Owl. “Forget it,” Panther said. “Ain’t no one there.”
Everyone stared at him in silence.
SEVENTEEN
I T WAS A PARTICULARLY SHARP JOLT that threw Sparrow from the roof of the Lightning AV. The sudden lurch of the vehicle as it ripped across the mist-shrouded terrain was so severe that even though she was holding on with everything she had, it still wasn’t enough. In truth, at the moment her hold on the roof railing failed, she was looking at something else and might have lost a fraction of the concentration she needed to stay aboard. It was easy to second-guess herself afterward, when it was over and done with and she was lying in the dirt, the wind knocked from her, the Parkhan Spray lost, and the AV rumbling off into the haze. She was so disoriented that for a moment she just lay there, badly shaken, staring up at the impenetrable fog and waiting for her head to clear.
When she regained her senses she scrambled to her feet, thinking she might still catch up with the AV. But her legs were wobbly, and a fresh dizziness overwhelmed her so completely that she dropped back to her knees and retched. By the time she had gotten past that, the Lightning had disappeared and she knew she couldn’t have caught it if she’d tried. She wasn’t even sure by then which way it had gone. The best she could hope for now was that someone would notice she was missing. But she didn’t hold out much hope.
Still, her luck hadn’t deserted her entirely. She spotted the Parkhan Spray lying not six feet from where she knelt, its barrel a dull gleam against the dusty soil. She climbed to her feet, walked over, and picked it up. Undamaged, she decided, testing the weapon’s mechanisms to be certain they still worked, hearing all the familiar clicks and scrapes from the loading and firing chambers. At least she was armed.
She was also lost.
She looked around at the haze, a thick blanket that spread away in all directions. She had only a general idea of where her companions had gone, and they might change direction at any time. She could no longer hear the AV’s engine, no longer hear anything but the silence. Even the sounds of pursuit from the militia had disappeared. Or at least become muffled. It felt as if she were completely alone in the world.
She experienced a moment of panic, but fought back against it and forced it down. She was her mother’s child, she reminded herself. Her warrior mother’s child. Panic was not allowed.
She ran her fingers through her short-cropped blond hair, slung the Parkhan Spray over one shoulder, and started searching the ground for tire tracks. She found them almost at once. There, she thought, no need to worry. She ran through a litany of responses to possible threats that would keep her safe. If she saw fires, she would move away from them. If she heard noises, the same thing. Unless she decided they were from the Ghosts. If she saw movement, freeze. Stay clear of everything until it got light again, and then she could orient herself and find her way. She knew in general where she was going and what she was looking for. She had been lost before in places much more dangerous than this, and she had be
en much younger when it had happened. This was just another variation on a familiar experience. She would be all right.
But a small voice warned her to be careful. Just before she had fallen off the roof of the AV, she had spotted something strange. A huge, misshapen thing had appeared out of the fog, something vaguely human-shaped. It had shambled into view momentarily, walking up-right like a man, but much larger, and then it was gone again. She had lost her concentration and in the next moment she had fallen. She still didn’t know if what she had seen was real or not. But it had felt real, and that was enough to trouble her now.
She had no idea at this point where it was, and she did not think she wanted to find out.
A sudden boom sounded off to her right, too far away to be a threat or even to be identified. She glanced in the general direction of the sound, but didn’t see anything. She kept walking, doing her best to keep a straight line, following the tracks of the AV, which were plain enough to see in the soft earth, even in the mist and darkness. She gained back a measure of lost confidence as she progressed, her uneasiness over her situation steadying, her determination hardening. It would take worse than this to throw her off stride, she told herself. A lot worse.
She found herself thinking back to the conversation she had overheard the night before between Hawk and Tessa. A baby. They were going to have a baby. It made her smile. To her way of thinking, it was the giving back of a life for the loss of Squirrel. She would have a new child, a new little boy or girl to care for. Tessa would let her help; she was sure of it. She would read to this baby in the same way she had read to Squirrel and Candle. She would look after it when Tessa was too busy. She would make sure it was kept safe.
“I wonder what they will name it,” she muttered absently.
She stopped, conscious suddenly that she had broken the silence without meaning to. She stood quietly, looking out into the haze and listening. Nothing. You are so stupid! she chided herself angrily. She knew not to speak aloud. Her mother had taught her better than that. She must be more careful.
