Fever [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 5]

by Michelle Levigne

  “Hey!” He grinned and felt his bottom lip split open a little. Bain licked the blood away and grabbed hold of Gorgi's arm to stop him. “My first aid kit."

  “Yeah? So?"

  “It's a Ranger first aid kit. I bet it has E-rations and other things besides medicine and bandages."

  Gorgi grinned and let his bucket drop to the stones. He went to his knees and waited for Bain to sit down and search through the hidden pockets inside his coat.

  The kit was a inside an opaque green plastic bag with an airtight seal, soft and flexible around the contents, folded up tight to a packet five centimeters thick, ten wide and twenty long. Bain broke the seal and the bag unfolded to twice its size. He reached in and drew out a plastic temperature gauge strip, a sealed pouch of individually sealed pills for fever and blood poisoning, water purification and a general antibiotic. Next came a tube of blood coagulant wrapped in a long, clear plastic-sealed strip of bandages. Antiseptic cream in a tube came next. Then a strip of salt pills. Bain took one and gave one to Gorgi. The older boy swallowed it without question.

  Three tiny signal flares with computer transponder chip attached came next. The heat of the flares created enough energy to send a radio location signal for searchers.

  A silver packet, when unfolded, turned out to be a thermal blanket, thin as gauze but tough enough not to rip even when it was cut.

  “Wouldn't be very comfortable sleeping on the ground in that,” Gorgi said, after examining it.

  “Who cares?” Bain grinned in triumph as he pulled four energy bars out of the bottom of the packet. “Breakfast!"

  The energy bars, which contained all the essential nutrients, healing co-factors, proteins and carbohydrates for a day's requirements, tasted like sweetened glue soaked into wet cardboard. It chewed like old boot soles.

  They ate two bars each and wanted more.

  Long after the last chewy, sticky scrap of energy bar went down their throats, the boys sat there on the heating rocks in contented silence. They smiled at the sun that drew sweat from their skin and sucked it away before it could bead. It felt very good to be alive at that single moment in time.

  They had a job to do, though. Reluctantly, joints creaking, muscles protesting with bruises and cramps and strains, they struggled back to their feet and resumed walking. The sun traveled higher into the sky, slanting painfully bright into their eyes.

  The water of the falls beckoned silver brilliant in the harsh light. Spatters of water steamed as it hit sun-scalded rocks on either side.

  “We go through that?” Bain asked, staring at the solid wall of water.

  More intimidating than the thought of getting soaking wet again was the stretch of rocky, foaming water between the bank where they stood and the foot of the falls. Water gushed over the rocks, spattering high into the air, falling down to create foam that floated away with the strong pull of the current.

  “Yeah, we do.” Gorgi hunkered down on his haunches and studied the underwater bridge of rocks. “Usually, though, we go in from on top. This way is faster."

  “If we ever get across."

  “We can get across.” He grinned up at the younger boy. “Don't tell the grownups, though. We're not supposed to go anywhere near the bottom of the falls."

  Bain nodded and swallowed hard. He understood why the adults didn't want children down here. One slip, and someone could knock themselves out on the rocks, or fall into the water and hit something and drown.

  They had a job to do, though.

  “Okay,” he said, nodding. “Let's cross."

  Halfway across, Bain wished they had tied themselves together with the rope again. True, if Gorgi fell, he could pull Bain in after him. If Bain fell, the force of his fall if not his weight would pull the other boy over. But at least they would stay together. Bain didn't know what he would do if he lost Gorgi. How would he get up to the top of the falls and find the crevice leading to the mine sludge storage chamber?

  He gave up thinking about it—they were nearly across now, anyway. Too late to stop and tie the rope, or go back to do it. Bain concentrated on his feet and holding his bucket tilted so the spray from the splashing water didn't fill it and pull him off balance.

  Gorgi slipped as he stepped up onto the ledge at the foot of the falls. Bain froze, unsure what to do, and watched as his friend grappled against the rocks, slipping and sliding and scraping his hands raw. Water poured into the bucket slung over his shoulder, adding weight and throwing him off balance.

  He got a solid hold and just hung there, his legs halfway down in the water beyond the rocks, the current tugging at them. Gasping, Gorgi held perfectly still, waiting. Bain shivered and waited.

  “Okay,” the older boy said. He slowly lifted one hand and slid it up the rock face until he found the edge of the lip of rock. He grasped it hard, pulling to make sure he had a firm hold. He levered himself up until he knelt on the wet rock, then reached up with the other hand.

  Bain's legs went numb with the cold, rushing water tearing at his footing while he waited and watched Gorgi struggle up onto the ledge. He prayed, hard.

  When Gorgi got up onto the ledge, he sprawled out full length on his stomach and lay still for another ten heartbeats. The bucket spilled out next to him, sending a trickle of water over the ledge to join the falls. Then he rolled over. The front of his pants were torn where they had caught on the jagged rock face. Blood welled up through the long shreds from his hips down past his knees. The skin was white from the chill of the water.

  “How come the water is so cold if it's so hot out?” Bain asked. He didn't even care right then how stupid the question sounded.

  “I don't care,” the other boy mumbled. He levered himself up on his elbows and wiped water off his face. “Are you coming?"

  Bain threw the bucket across the gap. Gorgi caught it, fumbled, then tossed it down next to the first one. Holding his arms out for balance, reaching for the ledge, Bain took careful steps. He watched his feet and felt for every step before he put his weight down. Twice he thought he was slipping, but he leaned back a little, putting his weight where the footing was secure.

  His heart thudded in his throat by the time he reached the ledge and Gorgi reached down to help him climb up. He didn't slip, and in moments they stood side by side, staring up at the silver curtain of the falls.

  “From here it's easy,” the older boy promised. “There's even a staircase up to the top of the inside falls."

  “That sounds good.” Bain grinned crookedly and took a deep breath. He had never felt so tired in his whole life. Maybe those energy bars weren't any good

  They held the buckets upside down over their heads as they went through the waterfall. The force of the water pushed the bucket sides down on Bain's shoulders, leaving a promise of more bruises. He was glad he had something to cover his head.

  Then they were through. Bain turned the bucket over and held it by its handle and stared.

  * * *

  Chapter Eleven

  Sunlight filtered down in streaks across the top of the rocks. He and Gorgi stood in a deep, round depression in the rock, in a shallow stream that came from a thin trickle of waterfall at the far side.

  The sunlight picked up streaks of green, crimson, amber and blue in the rock, sparkling softly in the shadows. Moss carpeted the floor of the mini-canyon in brilliant green and azure and yellow, up to the edge of the shallow stream where the boys stood.

  “Wow,” was all Bain could say for several long minutes.

  “Isn't it great? We come here a lot when it gets too hot to even swim in the river. Can't tell the grown-ups, though. They'd figure there was something dangerous here and find a way to keep us out.” Gorgi pointed to the head of the waterfall. Sunlight streaked across it, almost a solid ceiling between the little canyon and the world outside. “The meteorites are there."

  “How do we get up? Or should we get the sludge, first?"

  “Sludge.” He bent over and caught up his bucket. “T
his way."

  The way down was easy; a hole in the canyon wall led to a shallow slope paved with sand. Bain guessed this had to be another place where water had flowed at one time. It curved down and around into darkness. They turned on their lights and raised sparks from silver and gold bits of metal in the rock.

  The slope ended in a pile of rubble, and a crevice in the rock wall. Gorgi stepped through, a tight squeeze that took shreds from his already ruined shirt. The bucket banged against the side, but it didn't catch. Bain worried about that. How could they get the mine sludge up to the top if they couldn't get it through the crevice? Then he squeezed through and was careful with his bucket, and it didn't even scrape the sides of the crevice.

  Their surroundings changed abruptly from rough, naturally formed passages to smooth walls and floor and sharp angles. Gorgi flashed his light along the wall until he found a sign reading ‘sludge storage chamber twelve.'

  “Twelve?” Bain whispered harshly. “You have that many places just to store sludge? Why?"

  “Like I said, the grown-ups are crazy. They think this stuff will sell someday.” Gorgi smirked. “There are twenty-six storage chambers for this junk.” He stepped down the hall three more steps and the beam of his light revealed a door. He pushed it open and stepped in.

  Bain followed him. When the door clicked closed, Gorgi reached over to the switch panel in the wall and turned on the light. They paused a moment, blinking hard and fast, until their eyes adjusted.

  The storage room consisted of rows of ceiling-tall barrels, three meters wide, with spigots half a meter up from the floor. Gorgi knelt and put his bucket under the first spigot and turned the handle.

  Thick, chemical-smelling, black liquid oozed out, puddling into the bucket with a soft splatting sound. Bain wrinkled up his nose at the smell. It smelled like lubricant, but dirty. It smelled like dead things, rotted so long it didn't smell exactly rotten.

  When Gorgi's bucket filled, he snatched Bain's bucket and slid it under the spigot and shoved his own out of the way. Not a drop of the mine sludge hit the floor or the outside of the buckets.

  “They use this place to get their samples for tests and things,” Gorgi explained while they waited for their buckets to fill. “Sometimes we sneak in and get enough to start bonfires. Nobody ever notices. They don't keep track of how much they use, and whenever it gets low, they just bring in more from the mines."

  “Crazy,” Bain muttered.

  Gorgi shrugged. There was nothing more to be said on that subject.

  Then the buckets were full, with a five centimeter gap between the top of the sludge and the lip of their buckets. They walked slowly, afraid to slosh and leave a trail or lose any of their precious load.

  When they reached the crevice, Bain went through first and Gorgi handed the buckets through to him. They didn't spill a drop.

  Just like Gorgi had said, there was a natural staircase leading up the inside of the mini-canyon to the top of the inside waterfall. The steps were a little higher than Bain was used to, forcing him to stretch his already bruised and weary legs. Bain still grinned when they reached the top.

  Then he saw the plague bomb and his grin faded in perfect synchronization with the cold dropping sensation in his stomach.

  Not one plague bomb, but three, clumped together, rather flattened and almost melted together at the spots where they joined. As if they had smashed against each other in space, or maybe when they launched, and stuck together all the long journey through space. They were just like the rubbery looking, dark brown and greenish and orange spotted globe Bain had seen before, with knobs and bumps and warts like sting yams.

  Glistening greenish-yellow, thread-thin streams streaked out of at least half a dozen of the warts and trickled down the sides of the plague bomb, into the shallow puddle of water where it had come to rest.

  “Is that a plague bomb?” Gorgi asked, when both boys had stared at it in silence.

  “That's three, all melted together. Never saw that green stuff come out of one before, though.” Bain stepped back, almost to the edge of the cliff. “That's got to be the virus."

  “Yuck. Mashrami are really gross."

  “I know.” He took a deep breath. “I guess we should—” He gestured at the bucket and made a pouring motion.

  Gorgi nodded. Neither boy made a step toward the plague bomb for a few moments. Then Bain shook his head and silently scolded himself for being stupid. If they came all this way and did all this work and didn't burn up the plague bomb, what was the use?

  Bain stepped into the stream and as close to the plague bomb as he dared. He left a quarter of a meter of air between his body and the Mashrami device and leaned over, lifting the bucket as high as he could. Mine sludge spilled down, coating the three joined globes, like syrup poured over pudding balls.

  Gorgi stepped up on the other side and did the same. They held the buckets up until their arms ached and the black stream of sludge dwindled to a trickle and then individual drops.

  “It's not enough.” Gorgi looked at the streaks of plague bomb that showed through the thick black coating. “We have to cover the whole thing, or some of it might not burn."

  “One more load?"

  “It better be enough."

  Sighing, the boys took their buckets and went back down the staircase, into the tunnel, through the crevice, to the storage room. The barrel glugged halfway through filling Gorgi's bucket, and sputtered and gave them driblets of sludge. They had to move over to the next barrel. Somehow, that little, easily-solved problem worried Bain more than anything else they had gone through.

  It was the time wasted, he realized. Every minute they delayed setting the plague bomb on fire was another minute the searchers could get closer to them and maybe stop them. Someone had to be searching for them by now. It was nearly noon, and he and Gorgi had escaped in the middle of the night.

  This time, when they reached the top of the waterfall and started pouring the sludge, they were careful to make sure every bit of the triple plague bomb was covered. The sludge ran down the sides and trickled into the water and left black threads through the water and floated on top with rainbow streaks in the sunlight. Bain felt dirty just watching it.

  “Okay,” he said. “Now what?"

  “Light it and run.” Gorgi reached into his pocket and brought out the igniter he had taken from the gas welder. It had a tiny power cell that shot an arch of electricity. The older boy pressed the trigger switch and demonstrated.

  “What if this stuff doesn't want to light?"

  “It has to.” He turned to look at the plague bomb. “Look at that junk. It's getting into the water. It's going to go over the falls pretty soon if we don't burn it up."

  “Yeah,” Bain whispered. He wanted to drop to his knees and just stay there. The moss carpeting the rocks and the floor of the canyon suddenly looked very inviting.

  Then he got an idea. He reached into his jacket and brought out the first aid kit. Kneeling, Bain emptied it out on the ground and snatched up the three flares. He grinned and held them out to Gorgi. The older boy grinned back and snatched them out of his hand.

  “How do you aim these things?"

  Bain showed him the little fold-down plastic and wire handle. He held a flare while Gorgi touched the igniter to the end. Bain hunched his shoulders and held his arms out stiff and straight and angled the flare so the streamers of sparks from its tail didn't touch his hand. Shrieking, it shot out of its holder, straight into the side of the plague bomb. It penetrated with a wet, squelching sound like a rotten melon smashing against hot stones. The sparks from the end sprayed across the sticky black surface of the sludge. And spread.

  “Yes!” Gorgi clenched his fist in a triumphant salute. “Next one."

  They moved around to another side of the mound of plague bomb and repeated the procedure. This flare flew crooked, but it still lodged almost to its tail in the top of the largest section of the plague bomb. The sparks of fire spread out in nea
rly concentric circles. The third flare hit low, and the flames stretched out along the water line. A few floating strings of mine sludge ignited, turning the water of the shallow pool golden.

  Thick, black, stinking rotten smoke gushed up in a pillar from the plague bomb. Rainbow flames crackled and reached for the sky.

  “Do you think it should do that?” Gorgi murmured. He stepped back and stared in awe at what they had done.

  “I don't know. I never burned up a plague bomb before. Is mine sludge supposed to burn like that?"

  “Never burned so much before.” A pause. “Maybe we should get out of here."

  They ran, slipping and sliding down the stone staircase. Bain tripped and measured his length in the moss. It wasn't as soft as he had imagined, and gave off a bitter scent when it crushed. Gorgi grabbed him by his collar and yanked him to his feet and they kept running, all the way to the waterfall curtain.

  “Think we'll be safe here?” Gorgi asked, gasping. He sank down to the ground and knelt, staring at the thickening black pillar.

  The rainbow glints rose higher in the smoke, oily, sticky, somehow sick-looking. Bain wondered if that was what huge amounts of virus looked like when they burned.

  Was the fire hot enough to destroy the virus? Something was burning, something more than the mine sludge. It had to be destroying the plague bomb.

  Then the smell hit them. Thick and rancid, like rotted meat mixed with fertilizer and allowed to boil in the hot sun, soaked in bad perfume and sealed into an iron box until it rusted from the inside and exploded.

  Gagging, the boys stumbled into the curtain of the waterfall. The pounding force battered at them, knocking them off their feet. They clung together and tried to move to one side to hold onto the rock face for support. Somehow they got turned around and stumbled back toward the smoke and stench.

  Bain wiped water from his eyes and took one last look at the burning plague bomb.

  “Gorgi—look!” he yelped, and pointed.