The 17

by Mike Kilroy

  He could barely see Mizuki sitting next to him in the twilight, but he could feel her hand that still cupped his face.

  “Guess I still can't sleep,” he lamented.

  Mizuki cocked her head and scoffed. “You've been out for hours.”

  Zack looked off to the horizon again, the sky still orange with the faint glow of the setting sun. “What do you mean? The sun hasn't completely set yet.”

  “It just sort of stopped there. Like I said, the rules don’t apply.”

  Mizuki scooted over and laid her head on Zack's lap. She peered up at him with a crooked smile. “My turn to sleep.”

  And with that her eyes closed and she was deep in slumber.

  Zack watched her doze, her nose twitching from time to time, her eyes flittering under the lids. She was dreaming, he supposed of her home, or of her family and friends, or of him.

  He hoped it was the latter because she occasionally flashed a contented smile as she fidgeted and dug her head deep into his lap.

  She was so beautiful, so peaceful. Perfection. He combed his fingers through her hair as he stared at the moon tattoo on his hand. He had the grin of a smitten boy.

  How she could sleep so soundly? He gathered he had done the same pressed against that tree. Fatigue is a powerful thing. So was sleep.

  His thoughts wandered to all those he had met on this surreal journey. They were all so different, but yet so fundamentally the same. They were all burgeoning individuals with strengths and weaknesses, skills and foibles.

  They were all cast out in some form or another, tossed away by their world and vulnerable because of it.

  They were also all young. They made mistakes. They felt things more powerfully than most. They were simultaneously strong and weak, brave and afraid. They all had handled this torment with surprising grace.

  Youth was youth, no matter if it was covered in scales, white as a Maine snow or hidden under a metal mask. It had the same fears, the same dreads, the same simple, innocent joys and the same clean slate. It was always pregnant with potential untapped.

  Mizuki more than others. She was the first of the seventeen, with the Ankhs the longest and had the most resilience of anyone he had ever known.

  And he loved her. Deeply. Completely. Eternally.

  He held her for hours, the sun finally setting. He couldn’t see her in the darkness, but he could still feel her cold skin and hear her gentle, shallow breathing.

  Finally, she stirred as the sky brightened again, much sooner than it should have.

  Mizuki blinked and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. “How long?”

  “A few hours?”

  “But the sun is coming up.”

  “And that surprises you because… ”

  She smiled and elbowed him. He always marveled at how sharp her elbows were, like the tip of a spear.

  Mizuki stood and studied her surroundings. Her eyes darted along the horizon, her lips contorting with confusion. “I'd say let's get moving to find the others, but I have no idea how to find the others. Everything changes. I'm completely turned around. I don't even know which way is east or west.”

  Zack had a directional handicap of his own. It was called being a young adult male. “Maybe head back to the center ring and hope we can see the city again and get there before everything gets flipped around?”

  Mizuki, obviously at a loss herself, shrugged and said, “Lead the way.”

  They marched through the field of flowers again, only they weren't as vibrant. Some had shriveled while others were just brown husks. It was much colder as well, which was very much to Mizuki's liking, but uncomfortable for Zack.

  As they trudged on, Zack’s legs began to wobble and he grabbed an energy bar out of his backpack. Mizuki nibbled on roots and they each took an occasional sip of what little water they had remaining in their canteens.

  Finally, they emerged into a clearing again and walked to the ridge of the slope that led down to the building, which stood unchanged.

  Zack and Mizuki spun, their eyes set on the horizon. Zack spotted the city and a column of black smoke that rose ominously from its center.

  Zack sighed and pointed. “That doesn't look good.”

  “It’s okay. I told Caroline to set a fire with some old tires we found as a beacon. C’mon. We better hurry.”

  Her pace was rapid—she was always a brisk walker. Zack needed to break into a jog just to keep up with her loping strides.

  They were still at least a mile away when the air became moist and thick.

  “No!” Mizuki screamed. “Not this crap again.”

  Soon, they were enveloped in a dense cloud so thick Zack could barely see his hand as he reached out to grab Mizuki.

  He pulled her toward him. “Stay close. Hold my hand.”

  They shuffled along, heading toward where they thought the city was, listening for any sound.

  Silence.

  Mizuki squeezed his hand so tightly his fingers began to numb. He didn't mind it much. It meant she was still with him.

  As they inched along, the fog began to lift and a frigid rain slapped at their faces. When their visibility returned to normal, the city was no longer in front of them, instead a large body of water, waves rising high with white caps, crashed down on a beachhead where they stood. In the distance, surrounded by a low-hanging cloud, was an island, a peak of a mountain top rising above the haze.

  Zack twirled to gaze at the horizon again. The city was nowhere to be seen.

  They were no closer to the others than before.

  Mizuki released his hand and clenched her fists. Her cheeks became blush red and she screamed. Loudly. The shriek so high Zack had to cover his ears for a moment. “This is ridiculous!”

  Her voice was hoarse with desperation as she spoke. “Zack, what are we going to do?”

  Zack wasn't the screaming sort. He was the brooding sort and he stomped through the sand angrily.

  Then he noticed a set of boot prints that were not his own, and then another set, smaller, leading away from their position.

  Zack pointed at the sand. “There are tracks.”

  Mizuki rushed to him and examined the prints. “They could belong to anyone.”

  “We need allies. It's worth the risk.”

  She pounded off in the direction the tracks led. Zack found himself again hurrying to keep up.

  Rain still pelted them. It felt very much like a cold, late-summer day on the Atlantic Coast of Maine. Late each summer his family made the long drive to the beach and occasionally they would be met by cold, raw days like this.

  It made him feel oddly at home.

  Soon, they saw a lighthouse in the distance, its lamp spitting out a beacon.

  Maybe this was home.

  The tracks continued down the shoreline toward the lighthouse.

  Zack hesitated. He reached out and grabbed Mizuki by the arm again. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “What is there to feel good about?”

  She stomped off again and he followed as closely as he could. Then she stopped. A large figure and another smaller one stood menacingly on the beach a hundred yards away. Zack couldn't make them out clearly.

  They froze, uncertain as to what to do next. The figures made their minds up for them, charging down the beach in a full sprint.

  Mizuki pulled a curved, serrated knife out of her backpack and Zack grabbed his dagger. It shook like a leaf in a strong breeze in his hand.

  The figures came closer and Zack could make them out now. They looked human, except for ridges on their foreheads and their arms, exposed under a white, loose-fitting shirt. Their clothing, complete with cargo pants, cut off at the calves, and boots that stretched high over their ankles, was very much unlike what he and Mizuki wore. They also didn’t have weapons that Zack could see.

  They did have watches strapped to their wrists.

  Mizuki slashed at the smaller figure, a female, and cut her. She tumbled away into the sand. T
he large man who was charging at Zack stopped to tend to his fallen companion.

  “They aren't one of us,” Mizuki said, her voice panicked. “They aren't one of the other seventeen, either. Who are they? Who are you!”

  The woman stood, her face swollen and scarred, and felt the gash in her side. It was shallow and the bleeding had already slowed. She charged again and Mizuki simply side-stepped her.

  The male just stood there and scowled at Zack with great disdain. His nose was busted and crooked and he had bruises all over his arms and legs. Finally, he grunted and bolted toward him. Zack ducked and the male flipped over him.

  Mizuki and the girl tussled. The female, smaller even than Jenai, was no match for Mizuki, who had ample opportunities to kill her, but did not.

  Zack's opponent was not small. He was muscular and fit— and enraged. Zack feared he could not hold him off as easily as Mizuki had held off the girl.

  The male stood and wiped the sand off his pants as he circled Zack. The female also circled them, but in the opposite direction. Zack and Mizuki stood back-to-back in defense.

  “We're going to have to kill them,” Mizuki whispered.

  Zack had made it this far without taking a life; it was, in fact, one of the reasons why he was chosen for The Seventeen. He wondered if Mizuki's hands were as clean. "Have you killed anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Me neither.”

  “I don't know if I can do it.”

  “Me neither.”

  Zack was certain one, or both, of the people who stalked them now had killed before. You don’t get bloodlust like that without having spilled it.

  The male feigned an attack, causing Zack to thrust his dagger toward him. The female followed suit as Mizuki gave a swipe of her knife.

  This game went on far longer than Zack anticipated. Finally, the male and female both charged in unison and Zack pushed the blade of his dagger into the chest of the male. It stuck there as his attacker wobbled backward and then fell into the sand.

  Mizuki was just as successful in her counter-attack. Her wild slash split the female’s chest open like a watermelon. Blood drained quickly out of the girl as she fell to her knees and then face first in the sand.

  Mizuki trembled terribly as she crouched over her. Tears streamed from her eyes.

  Mizuki grabbed the girl and flipped her over on her lap. She pushed her shaking fingers through the girl’s powder-colored hair. The female’s dead eyes just gazed up at her, hauntingly as Mizuki sobbed and repeatedly murmured, “I'm sorry.”

  Zack put his arm around Mizuki to console her, but there would be no solace for her.

  “We didn't have a choice,” Zack said, peering over his shoulder to check the status of the male, who still lay on his back, dagger sticking out of his heaving chest.

  “Killing a living thing is the worst sin you can commit on my planet.”

  Mizuki put her head on his shoulder and continued to sob. He brushed his hand through her hair and prayed she would find peace.

  She grabbed his hand and held it—the moons together again— and whispered “I love you.”

  Zack closed his eyes and felt her hair tickle him under his chin. “I love you, too.”

  Zack then felt her head come up and smack him hard on the jaw; the force knocked him onto his back.

  Mizuki's hair was wrapped around the male’s left hand, Zack’s dagger held in his right. He brought the blade, still wet with his own blood, down to her throat and held it there while he smirked at Zack.

  “Please,” Zack said tearfully. “Don't do it.”

  The male laughed and drew a red line across her neck with the sharp blade. He released her hair and she flopped to the sand, her blood coloring it crimson in gushes. Zack crawled over to her frantically, lifted her head and placed it into his lap.

  She gasped for air as she reached out her tattooed left hand to put in his right. It was so cold, but he clutched it as tightly as he could.

  Mizuki tried to speak, but could not before she went limp.

  Zack’s watch began to beep, as did the male’s, who wiped the blood off the dagger with his shirt.

  “One more and I’m free,” he said with a smoky voice as he reached out and grabbed a handful of Zack’s hair. Zack tried to keep Mizuki’s hand in his, but let it go as the man dragged him down the beach.

  Zack closed his eyes and surrendered to his fate. There was no use fighting anymore, no use struggling, no use staying alive. All he had cared about was lost.

  He waited for his death, but instead he heard a grunt and felt a splash of warm liquid on the back of his neck. He craned his head and opened his eyes to see a spear sticking out of the male’s chest, his back arched, before he fell.

  Zack figured the man was dead before he hit the sand.

  He peered up and saw Harness standing a few yards away, his arm still down like a thrower who had just flung a javelin.

  Harness stood up straight and bellowed. “C’mon, twerp. Follow me.”

  Harness wore the same white shirt and cargo pants as the man he had just impaled and pounded his bare feet down the beach quickly toward the lighthouse. He got a good twenty yards away before he stopped and looked back at Zack, who stared back at Mizuki’s body as wave after wave crashed into him.

  Zack crawled to Mizuki and tried to lift her, but she tumbled back to the wet sand. He tried again, but Harness was there to stop him.

  “Leave her. She’s dead. We don’t have time. The fog is going to come back soon and that lighthouse will be gone. It’s the best shelter we have for now.”

  Zack shook his head. “I can’t leave her.”

  Another wave crashed and dragged Mizuki into deeper water.

  “Goddammit.” Harness grabbed Zack under his arms and lifted him. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  Zack nodded and followed Harness. When he looked back, Mizuki’s body was gone, washed into the sea. A shudder went through him. And not the good kind.

  She was really gone.

  Part III

  Chapter Three

  The Doldrums

  Zack traced the moon on the top of his right hand with the index finger of his left, around and around and around. It was the only thing he could think of doing and the only thing that kept him focused enough to function.

  Harness clanked about in a nearby room, much like he had clanked about in that kitchen in that cabin once. Finally, he emerged with a metal cup full of water.

  Some water sloshed out of it as Harness held the cup out to him. It was unsteady in his hand. “Here. Take it. Drink.”

  Zack looked up and saw Harness up close for the first time and gasped.

  Harness’ nose was swollen and one eye closed from a recent beating and he turned his head away and spat blood mixed with saliva.

  His hands were puffy and misshaped from the busting of knuckles. His fingers, all of which had been broken at one time or another, snaked out from his hands like the crooked roots of a tree.

  He no longer looked like a seventeen-year old boy, strong and virile, but of a much older man, mangled by a hard life.

  Zack grabbed the metal cup and sipped. The water tasted metallic.

  Harness groaned as he sat and noticed Zack staring at him with a wince.

  “They don’t heal us anymore when we get jacked up. And we heal badly.”

  Zack noticed a scar running across Harness’ forearm and another across his forehead. He was a fractured boy and Zack could tell he knew it.

  Harness pointed a crooked finger at him. “You have a watch, too. What’s it say?”

  Zack peered down at the display. “Twenty-five.”

  “That’s how many of you are left?”

  Zack nodded. “I guess. Your watch doesn’t say that?”

  Harness shook his head. “No. No. We’re not part of your group. We’re part of a … different group. We were dumped in here as hunters, I guess. We were told if we kill three of ya, we get out of here. They’ll fix us up l
ike new and send us home.”

  Zack almost didn’t want to ask, but his curiosity was too strong. He always had to know things. “How many of us have you killed?”

  “Two.”

  Zack gulped. “Why did you save me? Why haven’t you killed me?”

  Harness coughed violently and a spray of watery blood colored his hand in a splotch of crimson. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m tired of it. Maybe I saw you and just couldn’t do it. It may have seemed like I hated you, but I didn’t. I was just trying to toughen you up. You know, tough love and all that crap.”

  Zack took another sip of Metal Cup Water. It was growing on him. Either that or he was too thirsty to care. “I need to find the others. We have a plan, but it’s not going so good. Every time we tried to get to the others, the world would change and we’d get lost.”

  Harness took a gulp of his own Metal Cup Water and looked smugly at Zack. “I can get you there. It’s really easy once you figure it out.”

  Zack knew better than to doubt Harness. He knew his dumb macho jock guy persona was just an act, a self-defense mechanism, perhaps. He knew, in fact, that Harness was brilliant. “What is this place?”

  Harness grabbed another makeshift spear from behind him and drew a circle in the thick dust on the floor. “We’re in a very large and very elaborate gimbal.”

  Zack had heard the term before, but had no clue what it was.

  Harness noticed Zack’s confused look and shook his head. “A gimbal, like what NASA uses to train astronauts. A series of concentric rings spinning around a central fixed ring.”

  Zack was still clueless.

  Harness began to draw a gimbal in the dust. “That messed up building in the middle is on a ring that doesn’t move. Then there is another ring around it and another around it. They spin on different axes. But I think there are two more rings that you can’t see. I think one is time and the other is some strange fifth dimension. That’s why if you think you are walking in one direction, soon you’ll be walking in another. That’s why the weather is so freaky. That’s why time sometimes seems to stand still, while at other times seems to be moving fast.”

  Zack stared at him in awe.

  “I know,” Harness said. “It’s hard to wrap you dweeb brain around.”