New Bloods Boxset

by Michelle Bryan

  We must have been walking a good hour or so when a shrill scream from Duchess or Coral, I ain't sure which, almost makes me jump from my skin. I'm already agitated enough with the dark and the crawly things and the idea that's stuck in my head of us stumbling on some scorpi-ants down here as well, so the fool screaming grates on me something fierce.

  "Something just ran across my foot! I hate this place. I hate it." Yep, it's Duchess alright. Tater is doing his best to calm her down, but she keeps yelling.

  "I can't take it anymore. I hate being down here. I need to get out."

  "Duchess," Tater says.

  "Don't you 'Duchess' me, Winston Phillip. This is your fault. You got me mixed up in this … this catastrophe," she screams.

  "Please calm down. This is not helping."

  "No, I will not calm down. I will not. I will not!" She’s stamping her foot with each scream. Her voice pierces through my skull like a knife and hits every raw nerve, and I cain't take it anymore. Lunging at her, I hold the tip of my knife to her quivering chin.

  "Shut your pie hole," I growl at her in the ensuing silence. I know everyone is staring at me in shock, but I cain't help the angry words pouring outta my mouth. Her chin stops quivering, but I think it's more so from the fear of hitting the knife tip underneath it. She falls silent. "Or I swear on all that is holy, I will knock you senseless and have Busher carry you the rest of the way. Am I clear?"

  Her eyes have gone wide at my attack, but at least she stops screaming. I watch as her eyes fill up with tears, and I’m consumed by guilt, but however cruel my actions may be, it seems to have worked. She takes a couple of deep breaths and nods her understanding at me.

  "Okay then," I say as I pull my knife away and glance around at the others. "Whadda you all lookin' at? Let's keep movin'. Kell, how much further?" I snap at the old man, and he jumps a little in fear.

  "Ah," he seems unsure how to answer me. “Not much, I do believe. Almost there."

  "Good," is all I say, but I keep to myself how glad I am of that fact and how close I am to losing it just the same as Duchess. I ain't gonna tell any of them that, but I had to shut her up quickly else I woulda become just as much a raving lunatic as her. We cain't get there soon enough.

  Kell hadn't lied. It ain't long before we come to a branch off from the tunnel we’re in. A faded, dirt-encrusted sign still managing to hang on above the tunnel entrance simply says, "E."

  "This is it," Kell says. "In here."

  A slight incline and then another set of badly broken steps leads us outta the confining tunnel. We now find ourselves in what looks like the remains of a building that has kinda fallen in on itself, so that the hole we had just crawled out of is covered by a maze of twisted beams, rock, and 'crete. If you didn't know what to look for, there ain't no way you were gonna find that entrance on your own.

  "Watch your step," Kell says as he leads the way. "Lotta sharp pieces here."

  We heed his words.

  There ain't any roof left whatsoever above our heads, which allows us to see straight through to the outside. The pale moon hanging in the night sky outlines the dark shadows of the few half-standing sky towers poking outta the mountains of metal and 'crete that litter the whole area. Not a bit of shrubbery or greenery to be seen. We definitely ain't on Royal Island anymore.

  "Over there," Kell whispers in the quiet darkness. "The second building on the right. That's where we're headed. That's the safe house. Quickly now."

  At least this building looks to be in better shape than what we’d just passed through. A solid steel door stands between us and the inside though, and I'm shocked when Kell politely knocks on the door. What the hell? I thought these places were abandoned. My question is answered when a little peep hole I ain't noticed opens up right away to study us.

  "Who's here now, eh? State yer business."

  "Harry, it's me, Kell. Let us in."

  "Kell? Ya lyin' bastard, Kell is dead he is. Taken by the Army months ago. Whoever you are, take yerselves away before I shoot the damn lot of ya."

  The tip of a shooter pokes out through the peep hole, letting us know that Harry means business.

  "It is me, you fool. I've escaped, look closer."

  A blood-rimmed eyeball fills the hole as Kell steps closer. Then the peephole slams shut, and we hear a slight kerfuffle from the other side of the door. Silence follows. The door don't open, and I think they’ve just given up on us. They ain't gonna let us in. We stand in silence, looking at each other and shuffling our feet.

  "Maybe we should move on, Kell," I say finally. "They ain't gonna let—"

  The door flies open, and we find ourselves looking down the barrel of no less than five shooters. Safe house my arse.

  "Shawn," Kell says, almost falling through the door, but the younger man he addresses don't seem to be as pleased as the old one and blocks his entrance.

  "What is the meaning of this, Kell? Why have you brought this group of intruders here in the middle of the night? And is that … is that a devil cat? By all that's holy."

  The younger man's shooter aims Cat's way, and Finn immediately jumps in front of his beast, protecting her with his own scrawny body. But that ain't all. The shooters pointing our way raises all of our hackles, and our own weapons are lifted in our defense. They ain't taking us down without a fight.

  "Stop! Stop it. All of you lower your weapons." Kell steps in front of Busher and the two others he’s staring down with an angry growl.

  "Give me a reason why," Shawn snarls at us all.

  "Because we are all on the same side. These people are not your enemies, Shawn. In fact, they are fugitives from Royal Island … outlaws … allies. They helped me and numerous others escape this evening from certain death, so I am indebted to them. And as your father, I demand you show them the respect they deserve."

  Father? Didn't expect that.

  The safe house ain't no more than a massive, open 'crete area with people lurking apprehensively in every shadowed corner. Fires burn in metal barrels, creating the only light since every window has been covered over with tarps or sheets of tin. The whole floor is scattered with old relics. Broken down, saggy chairs and musty smelling pillows and mattresses scattered haphazardly all over the place, abandoned quickly at our unexpected arrival. There don't seem to be no rhyme or reason to the room, the possessions, or the people in it. But they do have one thing in common. They’re all staring at us right now like we carry a death plague. It’s eerily quiet in the room; the fire's crackling and popping are the only sounds to be heard.

  We keep staring each other up and down, no one wanting to be the first to accept the other. Finally, the young man sighs and lays his hand on the oldie's shoulder.

  "It is good to see you alive and well, Kell. We thought … I thought we would never meet again."

  The old man nods and closes his eyes as he shakes his son's arm.

  "I, as well, boy. But these people … this girl saved me as well as some of the others you see before you."

  "It weren't just me," I say quickly. "Everyone here had a hand in the rescue." I don't want to take responsibility for it all.

  Kell shrugs. "Be that as it may, you have struck a blow to the Prezedant this evening, one that he will not quickly forget."

  The young man, Shawn, studies us for a bit with narrowed eyes. Finally, a smile cracks his stern demeanor, and he yells out to his people.

  "Very well then. Let us welcome this group of weary travelers, for not only have they returned my father to me alive and well, but they are said to be enemies of our enemy. Any foe of the Prezedant is most welcome here."

  This seems to be what they are all waiting for. Almost as one, his people surround us, clapping Kell on the shoulder, smiling at us, and even a few braves ones going as far as to pet Cat. They are a motley bunch—children, men, women—but they all have one thing in common. Their sunken cheeks and gaunt frames tell me they live a harsh life. Theirs is not a life filled with masquerade balls and
choc-a-let.

  "Come, come, sit in front of the fire. Warm yourselves. You all must be cold and tired. I'm afraid we don't have much in the way of food right now, but there are some boiled greens left over that you can help yourself to."

  A lumpy chair is pushed against my knees, catching me off guard, and I fall back into it. Its innards are coming unstuffed, and I can feel springs poking into my arse, but I’m grateful just to be sitting. I pull the slingbag offa my shoulder and catch Mack's eye. Is he thinking the same as me?

  "We have food," he says as he offers his own slingbag to Kell's boy. "It isn't much, but you are welcome to have it. Consider it a payment for our passage."

  I offer up mine as well and so does everyone else carrying a slingbag. Everyone, that is, but Duchess. Tater nudges her arm, but she shakes her head.

  "No, I may need that. No," she snaps as Tater pulls it offa her arm and tosses it into the pile already on the floor. "I may have needed that," she whines, but at seeing everyone's eyes on her, she straightens her back and fusses with her ruined hair. Ain't much she can do with that rat's nest at the moment, but I ain't got the gumption to tell her that right now.

  Our offer is met by silence. Numerous eyes watch us warily as if suspecting a trick.

  "Please, the offer is sincere," Mack says gently.

  He ain't gotta say it again. At Shawn's slight nod, hands grab for the bags, and we hear the "ohs" and "ahs" as each new tidbit of treasure is pulled out. Dried meats, cheeses, breads, oranges, each morsel is studied eagerly, and I can almost hear their lips smacking in anticipation.

  "Thank you for your generosity," Shawn says.

  The feast is quickly divvied up and shared with our own exhausted crew. I'm surprised to find I have any sort of appetite left after tonight's events, but I devour the food just like the rest of 'em. The tension in the room seems to have melted some with the full bellies and quenched thirsts, and I find myself finally starting to relax. Shawn studies us through the flames of the barrel fire as he sits casually in his own chair, a pipe gripped tight between his teeth, giving off a pleasant aroma.

  "Now please, just like everyone else I'm sure, I'm dying to hear your story of this great rescue."

  We talk seems like forever, as Kell relates everything that had happened to his son and the rapt audience. Tater cain't help but jump in at times, like the storyteller part of him just cain't stand to be left out. I'm glad Kell leaves out my New Blood part of the story. I ain't sure I'm willing to share that side of me with these strangers, and I ain't really sure how they would react. But finally, the talking is over, and I’m more than happy to be led to makeshift beds. Even the lumpy chair was starting to feel like a torture device.

  Ensuring Finn and Cat are settled in before making my way to my own allotted sleeping quarters, I cain't help the groan that sneaks outta me as I sink down into the lumpy mattress. The evening's events had taken their toll on me, and it feels like I ain't slept in days. But sleep ain't meant to be an option right now. Just as I am about to close my eyes, a shadow falls over me, and I peer up into Ben's face.

  "Hey," he says quietly as he plops down on the mattress beside me, and I groan once more in protest as I sit up, my back against the wall.

  "Hey yourself," I say.

  He joins me against the wall and pulls his knees up, propping his forearms on 'em.

  "You know, I keep thinkin' I'm dreamin'," he says as he scratches the yellow whiskers at his chin. "Like this is all some bad dream, and I'm gonna wake up back in Rivercross. Like none of it ain't gonna be real."

  He really wants to do this now? But I don't argue. I simply wipe the sleep outta my eyes with my hand and get ready to talk.

  "Aye, I know what you mean," I say gently. "I've gone through that."

  He looks over at me, and his eyes fill with profound sadness.

  "But it is real, ain't it? Everybody is … gone."

  I nod past the sudden lump in my throat.

  "Ma and Pa, your grada, Lou, Molly...," he trails off. "I knew they were gone; I seen it happen. Yet there was this tiny part of me that was hopin' you were gonna tell me they were all okay."

  The shake of my head is all he needs as confirmation. He closes his eyes, and a grimace of grief crosses his face, causing my own wave of pain. I grasp his fingers and entwine 'em with mine; little comfort I know, but it's all I can give him.

  Finally, he opens his eyes again, and I can see they are damp with tears. He gives 'em a quick wipe with the back of his sleeve and swallows his sorrow.

  "I didn't know what happened to you. I couldn't find you anywhere. We tried to fight back, but they started shootin', and I … I was so scared," he whispers that last part. "But then, when they had us all lined up by the river and you weren't there, I thought, 'Good, Tara got away. They ain't gonna find her,' and it was that thought that got me through these past months. That maybe you were okay."

  My heart hurts for my kin and for Ben, how scared they musta all been. I feel a sudden flash of anger at Grada for what he did. If only he had let me be, I mighta been able to do something. I mighta been able to save 'em with my Chi. But it disappears as quickly as it came. Ain't no use crying over something that is long past.

  "Grada saved me. He knew what they were. He knew it was the Army. He knocked me out, hid me in the cellar. By the time I got out, everybody … everybody was gone. I was so heartsick. I just wanted to lay down and die, too. But then Molly, she stayed alive long enough to tell me they took you and Jane and young Thomas. And I just knew I had to find y'all and get you back." I let out a bitter little laugh. "Ben, so much has happened since then. I cain't … I cain't even begin to tell you everything. My meetin' up with everybody here, being captured by the raiders, and then the Army. Seein' for myself all the despair and grief that exists livin' in a world run by the Prezedant. The things he does..." I don’t need to explain ‘cause I know Ben has seen firsthand what I'm talking about. "Losin' so many people 'cause of that madman. It's nuthin' I coulda ever dreamed of in any night terror."

  I glance at him sideways, my heart beating outta my chest for what else I am about to say.

  "Findin' out I was a New Blood."

  "Aye, 'bout that," he says. "The giant over there keeps callin' you that, but well, what I saw you do to help us escape, I ain't got no way to describe it. Even your hair, I could swear it was givin' off some kinda light. Was I seein' things? What's happened to you, Tara?" I can see the confusion in his brown eyes, and it tears at me.

  "I—" There ain't no easy way to say it, I reckon, so I may as well come clean. "I'm a mutie. A New Blood others call me but a mutie just the same. I can do things … have done things no normal person should be capable of. I cain't control it, well not yet anyways, but I'm gettin' better at it. I have this force in me, this power that they call Chi or...," I search for the word Lily had used, " … bio energy. It makes me stronger, and I can use this energy to control other things around me, like the wind or sand. And I was told only those New Bloods that are the strongest are of the light. The glow that happens with my hair..."

  I fall silent 'cause by now Ben is staring at me like I just grew another head. I know it all must sound crazy to him. Even I find what I'm saying hard to swallow, and I lived it all.

  "You're a mutie?" he says, and I can feel my gut clench at hearing those words come outta his mouth. I brace myself, waiting for the look of disgust or revulsion or fear. Instead, he grins. "I knew it! I knew there had to be something strange about ya. There ain't no way you coulda beat me at everything while we were growin' up. You were always faster, stronger, but all this time, you were cheatin' 'cause you had an advantage."

  I almost break down at his reaction. He ain't freaking out. He's actually teasing me. I'm so relieved. But I ain't done with the confession, not yet.

  "Ben, I don't think you understand. I'm a New Blood … something the Prezedant badly needs. I'm the reason the Army came to Rivercross. I'm the reason you got taken and imprisoned and tortured.
I'm the reason why everybody died."

  Saying all that out loud, admitting to it, it almost kills me, but I don't get the reaction from him that I expect. Instead of looking at me like I’m some kinda of hideous monster, he just squeezes my hand tighter.

  "No, none of that was your fault. You loved everybody as much as I did, and you would never cause 'em any harm. That was all his doin'. The Prezedant is the one who did all that. I don't care what the others call ya or what you believe yourself to be. To me, you are still my Tara."

  His words are simple and to the point, but I can hear the honesty in 'em. I can feel my eyes welling up. He don't blame me. Feels like this great weight is lifted from my chest, like I can breathe again. All this time, worrying about what Ben would think of me, if he would blame me. But he don't care. To him, I’m still just me. I wanna tell him how grateful I am at his acceptance, how thankful I am for his unconditional love, but like usual the words don't come. All I can do is smile at him like some idiot while I dash my tears away.

  "What 'bout Jane and young Thomas then? Have you found them, too?" he says suddenly, and I so badly want to give him what he wants to hear, but I just shake my head no.

  "I cain't find 'em anywhere. I was hopin' you would have some clue to their whereabouts."

  He stops and thinks. "I may know something. They were dropped off before I got to the iron mines. The city where you first found me."

  "Littlepass?" I say, and he nods.

  "Before I was taken to the mines, we stopped at this tavern just inside of the gates. I don't know if they were left there or taken somewhere else, but I know they were taken inside and never came back out."

  I can feel my heart skip a beat. Are they still there? Had they been sold to the tavern owner? Was it possible that I may be able to find 'em like I found Ben? The prospect fills me with excitement.

  "We have to go back and see," I whisper, and he nods his agreement.

  "If we find 'em, promise me we will all leave and go back to the sand lands. Get away from this mad world."