Escape from Harrizel

by C. G. Coppola

  Still recovering from my pounding heart, I’m behind him in an instant, almost begging him to stay. But I know what will happen if he does. And I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

  Pausing at the door, he yanks his shirt on. He sneaks a peek at the bed and then back at me, “I didn’t mean to go so fast. It’s just… been awhile.”

  “Me too. Sorry we didn’t…”

  “No, I’m cool with this. More than cool,” he takes my hand and gently presses his lips into my palm. “This is enough.”

  “Reid?” I call as he opens the door.

  “Yeah?” he looks back with a smile that melts me. I have to remind myself to breathe as a new swelling grows inside.

  But I forgot what I was going to say. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just to see him a few seconds longer. “Goodnight.”

  He winks and then is gone.

  Chapter Nineteen: Searching

  “So… that was interesting about Sampson.”

  Able keeps his arm linked in mine as we head down the stairwell for Rebuilding. He keeps me close, pressed against his side, locking us together.

  “Wasn’t it?”

  “Did you suspect?” he lowers his voice as we round to the ninth floor.

  “No… but it makes sense when you think about it.”

  “I knew Reid had stuff he wasn’t telling us. Like how he’d get us all that food in the beginning? And where did Jothkore come from?” he makes a confused face. “We all thought he and Tetlak had it out so he wanted to help us. What’d we know?” he shrugs, skipping down a few steps, pulling me with him.

  “How do you think the Rogues are taking it?”

  Able tilts his head, “Some better than others. They understand why it needed to be kept a secret. I think they’re just in shock over everything.”

  “You seem to be doing alright.”

  “Like I said… kind of figured Reid was hiding something. Figured he’d tell us when we needed to know. And he did.”

  We reach the Courtyard. Keeping his arm tightly linked with mine, Able shuttles me through the open portcullis and out under the damp gray sky. As we walk toward the Water Pole, my heart skips a beat. Mantis is walking with his head down, the entire right half of his face darkened into a deep plum color.

  I stop. “Who did that?”

  “Who do you think?”

  “He didn’t have one of you…?”

  “No,” Able scoffs. “Mantis messed with his girl. What’d you think was going to happen?”

  I look again. His eye is swollen shut in a mash of green and purple. His bottom lip has been split open, the side of his mouth swelling as if it’d been hit multiple times.

  “But he didn’t touch me.”

  “Like I said,” Able shrugs, “what’d you think was going to happen?”

  We start walking again, moving toward the right bank of the trench.

  “Was he this way with Ansley?” I slow, giving us time to finish before he’ll get to work with the Gollops or find his place further along down the trench line. Able picks up on the speed change, slowing to match my casual pace.

  “Well…” and now he tilts his head, “everyone knew not to touch her… or so he thought. So he didn’t seem like it. Plus, Ansley is a Kiss. Her safety is guaranteed through both Clans.”

  “So…”

  “Did he ever go nuts like this?” Able asks the question I’m desperately trying to phrase myself. He shakes his head, his amber eyes grinning. “No. No, this is all for you,” he backs up for the Gollops. “See you later, bestie.”

  By late afternoon, my arms are about to break and, my hands are the shape of tiny claws still trapped under the Senz. I’ve gone to the Water Pole more times than usual and I’m probably pushing my allowed quota. I don’t care. If I don’t take another break, I’ll do just that—fall apart into tiny broken pieces of myself, scattered over the ashy ground to be carried away on the wind. Or maybe it’s for my sanity. So I don’t burst out in this agonizing scream I’ve been suppressing since morning. Either way, I can’t take another minute.

  I slip my Senz off and toss them in my bucket, heading for the Water Pole. I risk a sideways glance at Tetlak who’s by the Castle’s portcullis, staff in hand and starring. I half expect him to fly out of his trance, ordering me to stay back and keep working but he doesn’t come. And I reach the Water Pole without an issue.

  A few people linger, drinking slowly or even waiting to push the button—anything to keep from returning to the Rebuilding. I get my water cup, fill it and down the cool beverage in one long gulp. Nothing tastes better, the icy liquid refreshing the arid depths of my abdomen. Refilling my cup, I take another hearty sip just as the argument starts.

  It’s on the ground near the trench, but I’m too far to see anything. The voices—both male—grow louder, more aggressive and suddenly, my feet begin moving of their own accord. I’m running in seconds, halfway to the trench when another spine-shattering scream escapes, slicing the air.

  Everything stills.

  I can’t move. I want to, but something in my stomach pins my heels to their post. It’s what’s ahead—what might be. Pratt, on the ground, paralyzed and caught in one of Tetlak’s nets, her eyes a desperate plea for help. Will I be able to resist this time? Or will I fail, unintentionally enacting the counterstrike today, by sheer, raging adrenaline?

  The argument rises and I take off again, a huge crowd growing around the silver domes. People fly at each other as I soar through, clawing my way to the storm’s epicenter, praying to see another face—any other face—besides hers. Crashing through, my mind races at the sight. It’s a young girl, maybe a few years older than Pratt. A thin red line spills from her abdomen, her body twitching as her blank stare sits fixed on the clouded sky above.

  I’m yanked back by my wrist. About to snatch my hand free, I turn, finding Reid steering us through the tightly knit and suddenly violent mob. We emerge into the open air just in time, a huge fight breaking out behind us.

  “Stay here.”

  “But…” I push forward.

  “Stay here!” he holds my shoulders. I try moving past him but he blocks me back again, raising his voice to a shout. “Stay here!” Reid’s off to the fight joining the other Rogues who are already breaking it up as Tetlak swims in the middle.

  Everyone is over there, all the Gollop and Transport workers, the Arrivals and new recruits. It’s like a magnet drawing all bodies, surrounding the action. They all swarm the fight while that girl lies in the middle, her vacant eyes swimming in my mind. There’s got to be some way to save her.

  A Tregmint!

  If she still has a chance, she’ll need one. What did Sampson say? Deep crimson-purple, oval- shaped…thick yellow roots. They’ve got to be around here. I look toward the jungle when it flutters past.

  The black blur.

  I hold my breath and keep motionless, willing it to reappear. A moment and then it does, flying in front of me, right past my nose, almost deliberately. No bigger than a child’s fist, it has black toothpick limbs and an opaquely dark head the size of a pinky nail. Another one appears behind it and another, the three hovering inches from my face.

  My hand raises slowly, my fingers outstretched to touch them but they withdraw. The yelling continues in the background, quickly dying out. I’m afraid to look and find the status of the fight, in fear they—whatever these creatures are—will go. But they’re moving again, forward, in front of my face, demanding my attention. Once they have it, they withdraw again, back toward the gate’s entrance, toward the jungle.

  They want you to follow.

  I glance over my shoulder at the fight. There’s still a mob around the same area, everyone locking eyes on Tetlak as he growls, jabbing his three-pronged staff to stop it. Biting my lip, I face the gate’s entrance again, one of the winged creatures in front of me. It flutters just above my nose, its tiny black arm outstretched for me. Then it flies away, lost in the distance as it disappears for the jungle a
head.

  I put logic aside and focus on instinct.

  Racing for the Water Pole, I drop to the ground, searching. There’s got to be a latch somewhere. That metal ladder Raj and I found—it was here, for the Water Pole. There must be an entrance. I slide my hands over the ground, finding a small metal hook and yank up. Yes! The ladder is right below and I jump down into the darkness.

  Blinking, I reach for my Callix.

  I hold it outstretched in front of me and it illuminates a foot of sight ahead. Grazing my free fingers along the grainy wood of the surrounding walls, I move slowly, one step at a time, my heart pounding in my chest. I use my right hand to see and my left to guide, maneuvering through the tunnels using Reid’s trick. I only come to a few junctions where multiple tunnels cross but I close my eyes, letting my fingertips guide the path. When the texture changes to smooth, tightly-compacted pieces of particles, I stop and open my eyes, backing up. I do this, feeling the texture of the grainy wooden root until it leads me down the correct path. My heart’s pounding the entire time, wishing I had someone down here with me. Wishing those flying creatures—whatever they are—were down here, guiding me like before. Why am I even following them?

  They need to show you something.

  It’s the same voice that calls me to Ellae, the one I’ve only just met, as if part of me was asleep the whole time.

  Something important… something you must find…

  I use this to urge each foot forward when I desperately want to turn back. But I need to find that Tregmint. I need to be able to save at least her life. Reid is probably freaking out, wondering where I’ve gone. But he’ll understand. And even if he doesn’t, it’s not about him. I need the Tregmint. I need it for us, for her… the one I still might be able to save.

  But I’ll need to get it and leave. Fast. I’m not even sure how long I’ve been down here. Everything is broken into seconds. Heartbeats. And I must have had one million of them by now. I’ve got to be coming to an outlet soon. Just as I start thinking I might have taken a wrong turn somewhere, the ground lifts into four wide steps with an overhanging latch etched into an outline in the wood above.

  Thank God.

  Sliding my hand through, I hold my breath. This could lead anywhere. Different parts of Ellae… someplace new… but hopefully, to my winged guides who will still be out there. I need them there to remind me this isn’t all in my head.

  Lifting the handle, I push the door open and freeze.

  A howling gust drifts through the quiet shadows of the jungle’s oversized silhouettes. It sets a rustling loose and trees shake in response as ivy swings with great abandon, whipping into walls of stone and fauna. Everywhere, a thick white mist settles along the soil, obscuring the ground from sight.

  This is it.

  Before heading out, I take a mental snap shot, memorizing. To the left, two bushes squat with overflowing tongue shaped leaves. Just off from them, three thin trunks keep close company, lost in coats of moss and ivy. To the far right, a waist-high fragment of wall remains, draped in the same lush exterior, it’s stone nearly hidden beneath folds of green.

  Two bushes, three trees, one wall.

  I search my tree for any distinguishable features. There’s a slanted carving just inches above the opening and knots like giant onions that spring below one of the upper branches. Holding this image for a moment, another gust howls through, rustling the trees again. With a permanent chill etched in my spine, I carefully climb free, closing the door back behind me, and I head into the mist.

  Where are they? Where to go now?

  As quickly as I’ve asked, something flashes ahead. White wings speckled with black. They flutter like fireflies, swimming to each other, to me, and then back again, pulling further past Ellae. I’m in the middle somewhere, in an alley or between homes. The wall fragments don’t belong together and each time I slow, trying to map the city in my head, they flutter past again, reminding me.

  There’s something you must find…

  But where’s the Tregmint? It can’t be much further. We’re here, in the heart of the city… where else could it be? We’re traveling farther than I imagined Ellae could stretch. When I think they’re going to stop, that we’re almost there—wherever there is—they sail further inward, pulling me deeper into the jungle, deeper through Ellae’s ruinous remains. I pause only a few times, throwing a look over my shoulder, glancing into the blackness behind me.

  Is it too late to turn back now?

  They’re fluttering inches from my nose, drawing me north again. At this point, there’s only one way to go. It’s forward and that’s where I keep my Callix, my heart racing in my chest. I can do this. Find the Tregmint and get back. Just find it and get back. With a deep inhale, I keep going. Soon there are fewer and fewer walls and after a while, they disappear completely.

  There’s no more city.

  Did I miss the Tregmint?

  Seriously debating a turn around, I’m led to the edge of the jungle where a thicket of solid, Banyan-sized trees skyrocket, independent of one another and free from the extra fauna that connected them in the jungle. The white mist carries past, coating the ground in its opaque blanket and hiding their gargantuan roots.

  Can’t turn back now.

  I cross the threshold into the darkened forest, my strand of pulsating veils my only source of light. I wish the wind would rustle. I wish there was any other sound besides my heavy breathing reminding me I’m alone. Reminding me of the fear I’m trying to forget. But the distraction never comes and I end up convincing myself it’s just the normal sound of a heartbeat.

  A faint voice drifts from somewhere ahead and I freeze.

  My heart pounds so loud that I’m afraid it’ll give me away. But nothing’s happening. I’m still as a statue and there’s no rustling, no footsteps crunching through leaves. Maybe I imagined it. There’s nothing, no sound, no one—

  Her voice sails again.

  It’s a gentle whisper, thin as a veil of smoke and so soft that I almost don’t hear it. But it’s night, and the only thing that’s audible is the thunderous thumping in my chest. Gulping, I try finding breath again as I peer into the darkness ahead.

  My white winged guides usher me on, straight for the source of the sound.

  Almost there. Just a little farther...

  Gripping my Callix, I force myself forward. But I want to turn around. Right now. There’s something evil out here. I can feel it. My heart is about to explode under its emphatic racing and suddenly, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to do this alone.

  The voice moans louder. “…Gff…”

  “H-hello?”

  Silence.

  “Is…”

  A sharp cry followed by quick mumbles, “Gff… gffn… I wone’foget th’marow…”

  Every instinct is roaring against this, urging me to flee immediately. To save myself while I still have the chance. It’s the fear reflected in Hinson’s eyes—in Raj’s. It’s the fear they felt, coursing through me, pumping in my veins.

  Lifting the Callix, which now seems to cast a smaller glow, I search for the voice’s owner. But no one’s out here. Just trees. Tall, single trees.

  “…Wone’foget th’marows next time… Y’did…”

  She’s right in front of me. But there was no one there a second ago. It was just a tree, the wide trunk of a—

  Lifting my Callix, I stifle a scream.

  Chapter Twenty: Adrenaline

  Skin.

  Everywhere.

  It’s stretched out, bled white, lifeless. And in the middle, most of a face. Lips lower than they should be, pale white and melded into the trunk. Tufts of blonde hair sprout sporadically. Two blue eyes bat away, lifeless. They don’t see me—they don’t seem to see anything but stare blankly ahead. I want to look away—the rising bile in my throat strongly suggests it—but I’m stuck.

  “Gffn…” her tongue flops, a vacant stare, “…I wone’foget th’marows nest time…y’did… alwez
like ‘um bess.”

  It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not…

  I cup my mouth but it’s no use. Falling to my knees, I vomit onto an unusual patch of ground. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I push up with my other hand, stopping again. The ground… it feels familiar. It feels strangely…

  I stifle another scream.

  Skin everywhere—growing off the trees and over the ground, covering the forest floor. Shuffling back to my feet, I lift my Callix, holding my breath. The blossom’s light only shines so far, but it’s enough. And when I see it, all air leaves my body. A strong part wants to shut down now, give in and succumb to the overwhelming fear that’s suffocating me into shock. I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.

  It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real…

  Faces.

  Everywhere—as far as the eye can see. Faces and arms and knees and elbows, all sprouting from the trees, melded to it, growing like parasites.

  My arm shaking, I hold the Callix to the closest tree again.

  “H-Hinson?”

  She sniffs suddenly. Her parted lips chomp but are too far to close. She tries chomping again and again but her mouth won’t snap shut. A hungry moaning erupts, igniting the others. They all come alive, all snarling over each other, their hungry moans melding to a cacophonous river of terror. The gaping pit in my stomach soars, threatening to hold me here, to keep me here forever if I don’t move.

  Now.

  Spinning, I fly back the way I came, tripping instantly. I scramble up only to fall again, my feet moving too quickly. But they’re not moving quickly enough. Faster. I need to be going faster. I need to get away from there, need to put as much distance between them and me. They’re all talking over one another, muttering incoherently, and I clamp my hands over my ears.

  I can’t be here. I can’t be here…

  I focus on the roots jetting out to trip me again. Watch your footing. Focus on your footing, I instruct myself. Remain calm. You can do this. No matter how terrible you feel. No matter what you’re running from—just keep focus.