by Brindi Quinn
The person clutching my elbow wasn’t Theo.
Chapter 3: Between the Earth
“Y-you!” I loathed the way my lips trembled. But I couldn’t help it. The person who’d pulled me into the pit had hair of fire and eyes of ice, and the very sight of him made my jaw clench.
Again I seethed, “You!” I wrenched my elbow from him, but he held on tightly.
The bronze boy smiled halfway in a manner that wasn’t kind. “Me.”
The rumbling steps of the mammoth quieted as quickly as they’d escalated. I listened to them trail away and bade my rushing heartbeat to do the same. “You–! You–!” I looked to the small crevice we’d found ourselves in, a sliver where the earth had cracked from some amount of expansion. “You . . . saved me.”
My Marker was crouched to the ground, firmly gripping my elbow, eyeing the top of the crevice, as though awaiting the beast’s return. Only when the thunderous galloping was little more than a distant thump, did the unholy one release my arm and sink against the loose wall of the rift.
I scampered away from him and waited for him to speak.
Keep calm. Anticipate his movements. Be ready to counter.
My Marker yet held the Poi-7 somewhere on his person, and he was now within range. If he decided to activate it . . .
Very slowly, the boy’s eyes slid sidelong onto me. I held my chin stern. “Are you bleeding?” he asked. He wasn’t curious or concerned or hopeful. He wasn’t anything, really. I didn’t answer him, and his eyes released mine, slipping instead to his own jumpsuited body. “I am.” I saw then that there was a wide gash through the leg of his pants, where the fabric was quickly turning crimson.
He was injured, there was nowhere to run, and the only way out of the gorge was up. If I was going to defeat him, now was the time.
But first I had to calculate my outcome.
What if he enabled the Poi-7 before I managed to kill him? Then I’d have four days to find the antidote, but at least I’d know he was dead. It was worth the risk. Wildly, I began to analyze the best, swiftest course of attack.
As he removed a roll of gauze from the front pocket of his pack, I gripped the handle of my katar with grave intent. The sturdiness of the hilt made my hands even, gave me confidence. I was going to fight him. And I was going to win.
My Marker took the end of the gauze in his teeth. “What happened to your companion?” he asked, muffled. Again, he didn’t sound curious or like he really cared in the least.
I wasn’t about to answer, but the question aroused an anxiety in me as I realized I had no idea where or when I’d been separated from Theo. I also didn’t know if he’d even survived the stampede of the mammoth. Knowing him, chances weren’t great. “I don’t know,” I admitted, more to myself than to the unholy one, and as I thought on Theo’s whereabouts, my grip on the katar lessened slightly. When I noticed, I was quick to grip it tight once more. I wouldn’t let the Western demon distract me. I had to strike while he remained vulnerable.
The air was stiff and cool, and the pores of my skin pricked. Don’t think about it, I commanded myself. I willed myself to plunge the katar into the Marker’s abdomen. He wasn’t even looking. He’d never even know what had hit him. It would be quick and clean, and then I’d return home to Eastern City and start my life.
The unholy one tore the gauze with his teeth and began to wind it around his bloody leg, and as I began to slide my weapon from its resting place, his icy gaze shot to my determined one. I stiffened.
“You saved me,” I said again, slow and controlled, partially to distract him from my blade, and partially because I was curious. “Why?”
“I wondered,” he answered, with no show of emotion.
It wasn’t the sort of answer I was expecting. I stiffened further but relaxed my weapon. “You wondered?”
Flat-mouthed, the boy nodded. “About you.” He worked to dress his wound, and although I didn’t press him, he went on. “They paired us, so I wondered.”
Yes, they’d ‘paired’ us, Marker and marked, hunter and prey.
“I rank highest in speed,” the unholy one went on, winding his leg. “I expected to catch you within your city’s limits.”
His cockiness put me off. I narrowed my eyes. “I’m fast,” I said, chin up. “Maybe even the fastest.”
The Marker’s lip curled. “Not the fastest, Zillow Stone,” he said. “That’s me.”
I wasn’t keen on his self-assuredness. “What could possibly have been worth waiting for?” I asked, tight-mouthed. “You could have killed me. You could have won.”
“I still can.”
My fingers responded by swiping the katar across my body. It was my protector, glinting dangerously, though the sun hid. I held it between the over-confident Marker and myself.
He didn’t flinch, merely returned to his task of winding his leg, and said, “If you try to fight me, you’ll lose.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
The Marker stopped what he was doing and turned to face me fully. His pupils sat unnaturally in the center of electrically penetrating eyes. For a moment, my breath was caught. “I don’t want to end this just yet,” he said.
I swallowed and managed, “Why?”
“I told you, I wondered.”
Around us, the world was silent and still. There was no sign of Theo or the mammoth or any other wasteland scavengers.
My Marker finished tying up his leg and then dusted off his hands. He looked to the katar stretched dangerously between us. “Trust me,” he said, lip cocked, “you’ll regret it.”
Because I didn’t ‘trust’ him, not even a little, I left my weapon where it was.
“Consider this preliminaries,” he continued. He rubbed his thumb lightly along the gauze that was beginning to stain red.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, shrewd.
“There are rumors,” the boy said enigmatically. “I wondered if any of them were true.”
“What kind of rumors?”
The unholy one didn’t answer straightaway. Instead, he allowed his eyes to trail down my neck, to my chest, and then lower, to my waist. It was all I could do to keep from utilizing the power I knew I possessed. That isn’t to say I knew why I was holding myself back.
After a time, his icy gaze returned to my face. “Address me,” he commanded.
I felt a growl rise up in my throat.
“Address me,” he sneered again, this time with greater authority.
In the way it had been trained, my mouth obeyed: “My Marker.”
The unholy one tipped his head to the side. He was unreadable, and I despised the fact that I couldn’t decipher him. “From now on,” he said, “address me as Crash.”
At his request, something moved through my tense body – a trickle of fear or doubt. This was trick or a trap, I knew it for certain, and it felt even more harrowing because I couldn’t perceive why he’d demand something like that of his prey.
“Try it now,” he said, daring me to disobey with his unavoidable stare.
“Crash,” I said, scathingly.
My Marker let his eyes linger an unnaturally long time on my mouth. “Hm,” he said, before standing. Then, he gave me a nod. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” I said through my teeth. I was strong and fast and smart. I wouldn’t let this foreigner, my enemy, lead me anywhere. I was capable of acting on my own.
“You lost your companion back that way. I’ll take you to him.”
I felt my throat tighten with rage. Before, when he’d asked where my ‘companion’ was, he already knew the answer. The rage continued to boil in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I didn’t need or want his assistance. What I wanted and needed was to put an end to him. It only made matters worse that I didn’t understand his actions. All the same, as he set his pack onto his shoulder and turned his eyes to the sky, I realized that in this situation, maybe it was better to be led. Maybe I could use it to my advantage. As soon as he turned his b
ack, I’d plunge my blade into the center of his jumpsuit, and that would be the end.
But I didn’t get the chance to carry out my plan.
Crash’s hearing was keen, and at every minor movement I made, he turned sharply, mouth-downturned, daring me to act. Even the slightest unnatural ruffle of my sleeve set him off. I had no choice but to hold myself tense and wait for something to distract him.
In that way, we made our way up the gorge. I watched his red hair cross over the back of his tanned neck. He walked with an unnatural gait, shoulders hunched forward stalkingly. He was a predator.
As we came to the top of the gorge, the settling dust revealed a series of similar cracks in the earth. Over the ground, large fissures shot here and there. There was no sign of Theo, but my Marker walked with direction, leading me back the way I’d initially come.
He’d wondered about me, enough so to keep from using his trump card, the Poi-7. He’d wondered, but what, exactly, had he wondered? And why? And what were these ‘rumors’ he’d mentioned? My pride wouldn’t let me ask, and Crash himself offered nothing but a menacing glance over his shoulder every time I shifted toward my weapon.
Eventually, he stopped and pointed and I heard the faint cries of my partner.
“There,” Crash said, emotionless. Then, he turned to me. “Next time . . .” His eyes drifted to my chest.
I stabbed my glare into him.
“Next time,” he said again, “we fight. You’re fast, but are you strong?” And then he made the mistake of turning his back and beginning to walk away in his perusing way. He underestimated me. Without a sound, I held up my weapon and charged.
THUNK!
But it was I who had underestimated. Just when my blade was at his back, the unholy one dipped low, turned sharply, and rammed his palm into my lower stomach. At the same time, he grabbed hold of my wrist and threw me into the ground. Before I could react, he was over me, knees holding my hips into place, and hands gripping my wrists. I wriggled and kicked with my legs, but his hold was too strong.
“Hmph.” He let out a cocky sound through his pursed lips.
“Tch!” I let out an annoyed one. I’d been bested by the fiend.
He held me like that until I stopped resisting. Afterwards, he held me transfixed by the ice of his eyes, and asked something very strange: “Right now . . . Zillow Stone . . . what emotions are you experiencing?”
Anger. Rage. Wrath. Disgust. And also . . . shame.
I felt all of those things, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
Although I didn’t answer, the demon muttered something else before releasing me: “Interesting.”
With that, he lifted lazily to his feet. The gauze around his leg was freshly wet. His defense had put strain on the wound.
Good, I thought. I wanted him to suffer.
This time, as he retreated, I didn’t try to attack. Instead, I watched him go. I was fuming, but there was something more important. Again, he’d let me get away. Again, he hadn’t tried to kill me. Why?
Theo’s cries caught my attention. I started to back in their direction, never taking my eyes off of the unholy one who’d spared me.
Crash.
I wondered about him until his frame dipped below the horizon and I could no longer see him. Only then, did I turn and answer my partner’s shouting.
“THEO!”
I trotted towards a particularly steep cut in the earth.
“Zill?! ZILL! Thank GOD almighty!” Theo’s dirty face lit as I peered over the edge of the fissure. “Holy crap-oli! Thought I was Marker fodder! Anyway, there’s nothing to grab onto down here! The wall’s too slick! Throw me a line or something!”
But I was out of rope. I surveyed the landscape.
“Move along the crack,” I instructed. “There’s rubble over that way. I’ll shift some rocks down and you can use them to hoist yourself within reach. Then I’ll pull you up.”
Before following my direction, however, Theo wiped his forehead and looked up at me with a furrowed brow. “Everything all right, Zilltar? Your voice is off.”
I hadn’t noticed.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
The truth was that I was shaken, confused, enraged, and a whole other array of unpleasant emotions. Keep your head, Zillow Stone, I told myself. Don’t let the unholy one’s mind games get to you.
He was a manipulator. That was all there was to it.
“Zill?” Theo’s concern was more blatant than ever.
“I’m fine,” I lied again. “Let’s just get you out of here and then get back to Waystation Zelpha.”
Chapter 4: Paradise
“Welcome, Zillow Stone. Congratulations! You have earned: Three Meal Tickets. Limited Water Access. 9.03 Hours of Rest. 301 SPs.”
“And you’ll get even more once we turn this sucker in.” Theo held the golden plaque in the air triumphantly.
The trancelike music of the boxy waystation throbbed in the air, clashing with the throbbing of my head. Once more, Zelpha’s lights danced through the night.
Inside, the mustached man was gone. In his place, a small woman with a flaringly bright pink bob stood at the podium. She held a small screen in hand, over which she swiped her fingers rapidly.
Theo presented her the plaque marked with the Director’s seal. “Retrect retrieval,” he said, a little proudly.
“Hold on a sec.” The woman chewed her lip in concentration and continued to swipe at her tablet. Her swipes turned more and more vigorous, until– “Argh!” She let out a disgruntled and defeated cry and slammed the screen onto the podium. Then, she looked up at us sheepishly. “Can never get past that level. Sorry.”
Theo waved his hand at her, willy-nilly. “Naw, it’s all good. Say, mind checking this in for us?” He handed off the golden tablet, and the woman’s eyes widened.
“It’s a heavy one,” she said. “Must’ve been a fight to get it.” She looked to me for an answer, but I looked away. I wasn’t in the mood for conversing. Instead, I’d observe the retrect check-in process for future reference.
“Hmph.” The woman made a displeased sound and motioned for both of us to scan our now-blue marks before the wall monitor.
“Congratulations, Zillow Stone. This is your fourth day in the outlands. You have earned: Three Meal Tickets. Limited Water Access. 9.03 Hours of Rest. 301 SPs.”
Theo’s SP count was a great deal higher, over 4000. I attempted the math. If I’d earned 301 in just a few days, it made sense that someone who’d been at it for months would have a decent amount stored, although the nutrient packs and gambits and other supplies offered at the vendors weren’t cheap, so to amass any great amount would take careful planning.
I thought back on what Jozy had said at the waterwheel. She didn’t understand why Theo was ‘hoarding’ so many SPs in the first place, to which my enigmatic partner had answered, ‘It’s a secret.’
A secret.
Once we were both scanned into the system, the woman reached below the podium and pulled out a gun-shaped tool. When she pressed the tool’s trigger, a grainy light emitted from its snout. This, she passed over the Director’s mark on the face of the golden plaque. The tool responded by letting out a high-pitched beep.
“Go ahead.” The woman again implored that we press our marks to the monitor implanted in the wall.
“Congratulations, Zillow Stone. This is your fourth day in the outlands. You have earned: Three Meal Tickets. Limited Water Access. 9.03 Hours of Rest. 2301 SPs.”
“T-two thousand?!” I could help but stutter.
Theo grinned triumphantly. “Told you it was worth it, didn’t I? Bet you’re glad you teamed up with me now, eh, Zillowillow?”
It was true. Just like that, I was in a much better position than I’d been moments earlier. With such an amount of safe points, I could buy my own nutrient packs, supplies, and gambits. And there was something else. Now that the retrect was safely returned, Theo would share with me his knowledge of the wasteland.
The next time I encountered Crash, I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.
From the podium, we passed through the cavernous room full of people with vacant stares. We filled our canteens and washed our feet, and afterwards, I perused the vendor room. Theo and I partook in a meal – a sort of loafed meat coated in gravy – and then he went to take a hit of dandriel with the other vacant wastelanders, while I purchased a few decoys, a new stretch of rope, a moderately expensive pair of climbing gloves and a hearty stash of nutrient packs. Afterwards, I retired into one of the resting pods in the room at the end of the hall.
The pod’s mat was cold and hard, and at first I didn’t think I’d be able to easily fall into sleep. However, once the top of the chamber closed, the air filled with a smoky incense that held a flowery scent, and I immediately felt my eyelids fall.
The world was black, all but for the glowing circle on my hand.
It hurts.
It was throbbing. It was searing. Hotter and hotter, it flared outward, spreading to my veins, rising along them up my arm, entwining my flesh. It came up the side of my neck and hit me in the soft part under my chin.
My eyes flew open from the shock of it. Cool wind filled my nostrils. I was floating above a grassy gully. The ground was a blue lake, shimmering and rippling. On the banks of the lake, dozens of people stood, waving colorful flags. All up the sides of the valley, people cheered and waved. Small buildings, painted bright, littered the grass, some topped with a colorful umbrella wide enough to cover the roof.
This wasn’t right. The world wasn’t this vibrant. The world was dull and dusty.
I was floating.
No, I was standing.
I was on a wooden ship, but the ship wasn’t resting on water; it was floating stories above the rippling lake. It rocked and creaked beneath my feet, succumbing to the pressure of the wind. I gripped onto a mast for support. I wasn’t alone. A dozen others, all dressed brightly, leaned over the side of the small ship, laughing and ahhing.
Were those people, far away on the shore, waving at us?
