Repatriate Protocol Box Set 3

by Kelli Kimble

  “No. Just move me where you want me.”

  This new apathy wasn’t something I had much appreciation for.

  I imagined her floating, and then floated up beside her. We moved up through the trees to the open sky. Today, there were only a few clouds, scudding in quick bursts here and there. The sky was remarkably blue. It almost didn’t make sense, compared to yesterday.

  I pointed out the nearly-dry riverbed. Gayle looked in the direction I pointed, but she didn’t say anything. From up there, the bed looked like a brown ribbon, unfurling on a green garment; it was pretty. I spotted the cave, and we swooped lower to approach it. I entered first and touched my feet to the ground. I took the sleeping bag from her and spread it on the floor, in a spot that was even enough for her to sit on, before I gently lowered her onto it.

  “This is nice,” she said. She looked around without much interest.

  “Just wait. I’m going to get a fire started, and it’ll be so much better,” I said. I wanted to prove it was going to be nice, much nicer than living under a log with a snake — though I don’t think she knew about the snake.

  I left and went to get some kindling and firewood. It was all damp, but it didn’t much matter; I could burn it without much thought. I mentally piled it on the ledge at the mouth of the crack that formed the cave. Then, I found some rocks and piled them up there, too. My wrist was beginning to throb, and I thanked our luck for my abilities. If I couldn’t do these things, we’d have died in our first few days away from the city.

  Back in the cave, I arranged the rocks in a fire circle. The ceiling seemed to rise towards the entrance, and I hoped the smoke would escape through the structure without clogging up our air near the ground.

  I set the kindling in the circle and lit it. The light made the cave feel a thousand times better.

  Proud of myself, I turned to grin at Gayle. She was studying her cuticles.

  “Gayle,” I said, trying to draw her into the feeling. “Look what we did.”

  “You did a nice job, Nim.”

  Annoyed she’d missed the point, I frowned. “Thanks.”

  She rolled onto her side with her back to the fire. “I’m going to take a little nap now, okay?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’m going to look for our stuff. But I’ll be right here.”

  She didn’t answer.

  I turned my thoughts inward and flew free of the cave. Free of the guilt.

  Chapter 7

  Every day, Gayle begged me to leave her. At first, I was able to easily put her off by reminding her that I, too, was injured. But my wrist soon betrayed me. It must have been a sprain, rather than a break, because in less than a week, it was feeling better. I still couldn’t use it much, but the pain was only there when I tried.

  Gayle’s leg didn’t seem much different. Every day, I tried to sense the damage to the inner workings of her body. The changes were just too tiny for my amateur eye to discern. It looked the same each day as it had the day before. Was it getting better? Would it ever change?

  Her insistence that I should go increased with each day, and her attitude sunk lower in a direct ratio. By the end of the first week in the cave, I was having trouble getting her to eat.

  But that changed the day I sensed something other than animals around.

  I was at the creek, grinding two rocks together. I’d figured out I could make a sort of shallow bowl if rubbed a harder rock against a soft rock. It took a lot of trial and error, because I really knew nothing about rocks. But I’d found two rocks, and when combined, they were developing into a bowl I could use to transport water back to the cave without using the horrible stinkweed.

  Over the week, I’d started to get lax about checking my surroundings. The cats didn’t seem to be around, and I’d sensed no bears, nor any other large animal, since we’d first set up our shelter.

  That’s why I didn’t sense them.

  I heard them.

  They were talking to each other, projecting mentally, as they tramped through the grass. They seemed to be following the riverbed, but rather than following it into the curve, where I was, they were cutting across to where it bent perpendicular to the cliff and moved away.

  Searchers.

  I stifled a gasp and sunk to the ground. They didn’t seem to have seen or heard me. I watched as they came to the riverbed, then turned to follow it away from me. I waited until I was sure they were not going to see me, then I practically flew back up to the cave.

  “Gayle,” I hissed.

  She was curled up on the sleeping bag, her splinted leg sticking out stiffly. Often, it was her default position. “What?” she asked. Though I knew they couldn’t hear us, I shushed her. She sat up, her eyes wide. “Is it a cat?”

  “No,” I said. “Searchers.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said.

  “They’re following the riverbed down that way, away from here.”

  “You’ve got to follow them. You know, with your mind,” she said.

  Why hadn’t I thought of that? “Yeah, yeah. That’s a good idea. You’re right.” I sat in front of the fire ring. I was glad, for once, that Gayle displayed so little interest in the fire; it had reduced to coals and wasn’t producing smoke, which would have given our position away. “One thing before I go,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can you see me? I mean, my mental me, when I’m not in my body?”

  She scoffed. “Of course not. What would make you think I could?”

  “Just checking,” I said. Perhaps now was not the time to reveal that animals – or at least, cats – could see my mental form.

  I sighed and relaxed, then pushed out of my body, imagining the tug on my belly was a kite string I was reeling out to extend into the sky. I zoomed over the riverbed and caught up to them in only a minute or two.

  They’d stopped and were sitting on some large boulders near the riverbed. They passed a canteen between them, and I wondered whether I could take anything useful if I lingered at their campsite tonight. Would they notice a missing canteen?

  I’m telling you, I modelled the signals from their tablet, and they’re here. Somewhere. We’ve got to keep our eyes open, one said. He was tall and lanky, with eyebrows that grew together over his nose.

  We’re just chasing our tails, another said.

  I agree. We haven’t seen any sign of them since they left the mountain, said a third.

  We have a sign. The tablet. It can’t just get up and move around on its own.

  Actually, it could — if it were inside a shelter that was swept away by a flood.

  But they weren’t asking for my opinion.

  There were two more men — brothers, maybe. They resembled each other. They looked at each other askance, and I guessed they were having a side-conversation. One tried to hide a smile behind his hand, while the other coughed and looked away. So, those two were making fun of one of the others. I wondered which one. Did they think the naysayers were worth making fun of? Or the believer?

  You two better get your act together, one of the naysayers said, tossing the canteen to the one who’d coughed. We brought you for your expertise, and so far, all you’ve done is giggle like schoolgirls.

  What could they have been experts in?

  Sorry, man. We’re just blowing off steam. This isn’t our usual thing, you know, the smiling guy said.

  They fell silent. One of them extracted some dried meat from their pack and passed it around. Everyone took a few bites of it. My mouth watered. Then, the one with the eyebrows stood. The signal isn’t coming from too much farther in this direction, he said, pointing away from the cliff. I was glad to see they were moving away from our camp. Let’s get moving.

  The others rose, and after making pack adjustments and doing some butt-dusting, they started moving south, away from the cliff.

  I kept my distance but followed along. They were going to lead me right to at least one of our tablets. What else would they find? If th
ey saw our shelter and packs, would they believe we’d been swept away along with our things?

  About an hour later, the man with the eyebrows stopped and looked at the ground. We’re near it. Within a few feet. Right around here.

  There was a clump of debris off to the left. I’d not come this far in my own search; I didn’t think any of our things could’ve floated this far. I resisted the urge to probe the debris. I perched myself in a tree branch above them and watched.

  The five men spread out in a circle and began scuffing around at the ground, turning over rocks and digging through sand. Eventually, the coughing man poked a boot at the debris pile, and I saw a flash of yellow.

  Our shelter.

  I’ve got something, he said.

  The others came over, and together, they pulled apart the small pile. They uncovered part of the shelter, and as one of them tugged on it, it loosened the sand that was burying it. It looked heavy, and it appeared at least one of our packs was still caught in the layers of fabric. They freed it from the pile, and then spread it out on the ground, opening it to extract my pack.

  Geez. They were eating that old spyro junk, someone said, as he pawed through my pack. He cast out my spare clothes, and the first-aid kit, which looked ruined.

  Got it, the man with the eyebrows said. He wasn’t watching as the pack and the shelter were inspected. Instead, he was digging around in the loosened sand and silt. This is what we’ve been following. He held up one of the tablets. It was covered in dirt, but he turned it on anyway, wiping his forearm across it to clean off the screen. They’ve been looking at a map of the coast. Somewhere along California, looks like.

  Well, they’re surely dead now, one of the naysayers said. They’ve got no shelter. Only one pack. We found that one sleeping bag, shredded by cats. It’d be near impossible to survive out here without shelter and supplies.

  What about the other pack? Maybe they weren’t in the shelter when it was flooded.

  I think it’s about time you two boys broke out your expertise, the man with the eyebrows said.

  The experts exchanged a glance.

  Okay. Um. Yeah. Can I hold the bag? the coughing man said.

  The pack was handed over, and he closed his eyes.

  What was he doing?

  A strange sensation came over me, and I instinctively drew back to hide behind the tree trunk — even though I was invisible. They were silent, and I poked my head around just enough so that I could see them.

  The man holding the tablet had a completely blank expression on his face. His eyes blinked in slow motion and appeared to be unseeing. Without warning, they gained clarity and turned towards me. She’s nearby. Up high. She can see us. She . . . this is weird. She thinks we can’t see her.

  The men all turned in the direction the expert was looking. I ducked back behind the trunk. What had that guy been doing? Did he have abilities like me?

  She has to be in one of those trees, the man with the eyebrows said. He pointed across the riverbed at the stand of trees I was hiding in.

  I glanced around. He was right. There wasn’t anywhere else I could be looking down at them from. My hands started to shake. I couldn’t go back to the cave, not with that guy watching. What if he could see or sense me? What if he just took the cues from what I saw, as I’d done with Silver? I’d lead them right to Gayle, and she was helpless. I chanced a peek back at them. They were standing around in a circle, and from their gestures, I could tell they were still having a mental conversation; they’d just switched to addressing their thoughts specifically to each other.

  The one who’d connected with me looked up over the others in the direction of the trees. I had to know if he could see me. It made me itch all over to think he could. I moved out from behind the trunk and sat on the branch, swinging my legs. Then, I stood up, jumped, flew over their heads, and landed on the ground on the other side of them. He didn’t change his expression at all — nor did he turn to see where I’d landed.

  I decided to take a chance. Hey, I projected, just to him. Can you hear me?

  He still didn’t move. But, he answered, Yes.

  What do you want?

  Just to, uh, talk.

  About what?

  Why did you leave? The city?

  There’s nothing there for me. I’m different. You seem different, too.

  He coughed and turned away from the others to cover his mouth. Where are you?

  Nearby. Are you different? Did they do that to you?

  He stood silently. I’m different, he eventually said.

  You don’t have to help them. They’re only using you.

  Maybe I’m using them.

  He turned back to the group. One of them gestured towards the trees. Then, as a group, they started moving towards them. Since none of them were looking at me — not even the one who could connect with me — I relaxed and let the tension in my belly snap me back into my body.

  “You were gone a long time,” Gayle said. “I was getting worried.”

  “At least one of them – maybe two – has an ability. Like mine. They found one of the tablets, and when he held it, he could see through my eyes. The same way I can see through Silver’s.”

  “Crap,” she said. “That’s not good. Where’d they go?”

  “They think I was out there, physically. They were looking for me when I left.”

  She handed me a flat rock she’d arranged some rabbit meat on. I’d caught it the previous night, and she’d roasted it that morning, before the searchers showed up. I ate it without tasting it, while I thought about the searchers. They were there to take us back, right?

  “What do you want to do?” Gayle asked.

  “I don’t know. Any minute, they could see what I’m seeing. Maybe I should get back to watching them.”

  “They’ll kill us if they find us,” she said. She glanced out the mouth of the cave. “I know enough about the searchers to know that.”

  I licked my fingers while I studied her expression. Her forehead was drawn down in a rigid crease. She looked both worried and angry.

  She noticed me studying her. “The searchers have more than one function,” she explained. “They don’t just look for new people to exploit and exterminate. They look for people who’ve fled the city, and they get rid of them, too.”

  I shrugged. “They’ll just take us back home.”

  “No. They don’t let people come back. That’s why the people in the slums never leave. They could make a life for themselves somewhere else. But, they’re afraid of the searchers.”

  “I never heard such a thing,” I said.

  “You wouldn’t have. Your parents were too smart to even think about leaving.”

  At the mention of my parents, I fell silent. I thought of my mother’s face and was surprised to find I couldn’t recall what she looked like. She had brown hair, like me. She had pale skin, like me. People had always said we looked alike. But, did I still look like her? I didn’t know. My dad stood tall and thin in my memory, but his face was completely blotted out.

  I let out an exasperated sigh, and then anger started to build in my chest. People like the searchers had taken my parents away from me — taken my entire life from me — and made me into this monster.

  “You’ve got to keep an eye on them until they leave,” Gayle said. She started to say something more but bit it back.

  “What were you going to say?” I asked.

  “Nothing. It was nothing. I can’t ask you that.”

  The anger burst into a ray of irritation. “Just tell me,” I said, sharper and harsher than I meant to. I was losing control of my emotions. I needed to leave before I said something I’d regret.

  “I was just going to say . . . and I don’t want you to do this; it was stupid of me to even think it . . .” She trailed off, and I clenched my fists. I felt the familiar bite of blood against my fingernails. She glanced up at me, and her face paled. “I was just going to say that if you had the opportunity,
you should just kill them. They won’t stop looking for us until they’re dead, or they find us.”

  I inhaled a snort of air. That was something I hadn’t wanted to hear. I didn’t need permission to kill them. But I didn’t want to kill them. They were just people doing their jobs, and what had they ever done to me?

  “But I don’t want you to kill them,” she said, rushing to placate me. “Just watch them. See if you can lead them away. They’ll go if they think they can’t find us.”

  “They found the tablet,” I said. “The one with the map. They know we’re headed to the coastline.”

  Her head rolled back as if I’d slapped her, and she covered her face.

  I settled to the ground and crossed my legs. I didn’t want to lose them, and if they moved, I might not find them again. I was about to let my inner self drift off when she took her hands away.

  “Kill them,” she said. The whites of her eyes were visible all around her pupils, giving her a crazed look. “Kill them all. Today.”

  Chapter 8

  When I returned to the searchers, they were still looking for me. One of the naysayers was sitting on the grass just outside the woods. He held the tablet, and he was going through the documents. I noticed he was wearing a wedding band, and a small doll was perched in his chest pocket.

  He had a family.

  Rolfe! someone called from the woods. What are you doing, you lazy dog?

  He turned the tablet off and set it on the ground, then stood and turned towards the woods. You idiots aren’t going to find this girl like that, he said. She’s smarter than the lot of you put together. Come on out here, and let’s get camp set up for the night.

  The other four tramped out of the woods and began setting up a campsite next to the riverbed. They had two shelters — yellow, like ours had been, only a little bit larger. They set them up expertly and had a fire going in no time.

  She’ll see that fire, the one with the eyebrows said.