I took a step to the left, toward the log, and I watched as the swarm rippled, adjusting itself to me. The log was maybe five or six feet behind me. I licked my lips and took another slow step back.
The swarm exploded, little red blurs shooting toward me like bullets. Unable to control my shriek, I dropped my flashlight and ran. My legs tore across the mossy ground, eating up the distance in a matter of seconds. I could feel the air behind me growing denser as the swarm closed in.
Without even thinking, I dove in headfirst. It felt like it took me minutes to roll over, canister in hand, and spray, but in reality, it was seconds. I heard the splat of the red flies as they impacted on the log. I continued to spray the aerosol container in front of the hole, keeping them out. Through the spray, I could see the red bodies trying to push their way in, only to jerk away as they made contact with the haze.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, spraying the aerosol container at the hole. The red fly swarm sat just outside, buzzing around. Occasionally, it would try to press in, but the spray held it back. It was growing lighter in my hand with all the continuous spraying, so I blindly reached for the bag with my other hand.
I wished I hadn’t dropped the flashlight. Occasionally, as the swarm buzzed against the log, there would be a gap and I could see the light shining through from where the flashlight sat on the ground. But beyond that, I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t even know how big this log was inside, and I was too afraid to try and feel it out. So I sat, arms around my knees, spraying the hole, my legs cramping and back aching.
I found the bag, and changed aerosol containers. My finger on my left hand had become stiff from compressing the spray nozzle, so I flexed my hand, spraying with the other. I really wanted to stretch out. I really wanted to sleep, but I knew I couldn’t. If I did, I would die.
And for what, some deranged psychopath, some stupid egg, and some game of political power? I wanted my brother. I wanted Viggo. And I wanted to live a life free from violence and fear. I just had no idea how I could do it.
I remembered when I was younger, and Tim and I were lying in bed, reading a story. In it, a woman was lost in a forest. Her sisters had been captured by an evil man, intent on selling them in Patrus. The woman had run from him, and had barely escaped. She cried in the forest, bemoaning the fact that she didn’t fight the man, and that she would never see her sisters again. She was crying so hard, that she didn’t notice the old woman who had come to kneel next to her. The old woman explained that her own daughters had been taken by the same man, and that she was on her way to kill him. She asked if the younger woman would like to help, and together, they found the man, killed him, and freed the sisters.
There was a lot more in the story in between, but the old woman was a sort of legend in Matrus. She had no name, and no great power, save that of knowledge. She was exactly what I needed—a guide. I knew it was childish of me to want that, but I allowed myself to dream of the story, if only for a moment.
I was so embroiled in my thoughts, that it took me a minute to realize that the forest had gone silent. Sitting up straight, I stared out of the hole, and saw nothing but the light shining in from the flashlight.
I didn’t dare stop compressing the aerosol container. For all I knew, it was a trap. I waited for what seemed like eternity. My legs and arms were starting to tingle from being held in that one position, but I ignored it—or at least, I tried to. It started at my ankles, and began working its way up my shins and to my knees. I didn’t dare move my legs to stretch them out, but the prickling sensation was starting to irritate me. So, I reached down and began rubbing my legs with my free hand. As I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, I froze as I felt something roil under my hand.
Quivering, I removed my hand, and began to draw up my skirt, the sound of fabric sliding across my skin filling the small space of the log. It spilled over my knee and I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming at the long black centipede clinging to my leg.
I became aware of other movements around me, and felt the brush of thousands of sharp little legs. Something shifted behind me, disturbing my hair, and I felt the weight of a hard body pressing into my scalp.
I screamed and scrambled out of the hole, jerking my bag around me. Three centipedes hit the ground as I shook my body and head frantically, trying to dislodge the creatures. I shuddered, crying openly now as I continued to shake myself, my mind and body convinced there were more on me. I ran hands over my arms and hair, trying to make sure they were all clear. Revulsion welled up in me at the thought of any of those insects on me, their tiny little legs pricking into my flesh, crawling over me. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking, and had to take the mask off a few times to wipe my face and the glass lenses as cold tears spilled down my cheeks. I realized I was having a panic attack. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, trying to convince myself that they were gone.
It took several minutes for it to work. I was equal parts repulsed and frustrated. I had made up my mind about what to do—finally—and now I was stuck in the last place in the world I needed to be. Alone.
I suddenly found myself wishing that Viggo was there. He’d know what to do better than I would. Suddenly inspired, I pulled a memory of him into my mind, and used it to ground myself, by imagining every line of his face, from the curl of his lashes to the strong cut of his chin.
Eventually, I started to calm down. Methodically, I began checking my body again, when I felt something on my upper thigh start burning. Looking down, I saw a centipede clinging on to my dress, biting through the fabric with its massive black pincer mouth. Gasping, I grabbed the squirming body with my hand, ripping it off me and throwing it as hard as I could.
I grabbed my backpack, shaking it to make sure it was clear, picked up the flashlight, and began limping away, the wound in my leg throbbing. I searched for another hidey hole, and found one quickly. This time, I sprayed the hollow, using the remaining contents in the second container. Insects swarmed out, and I flinched as a couple of centipedes slithered past, but after a few minutes, I was convinced it was clear.
I slipped inside, fighting wave after wave of panic. My breathing was labored, but I tried to focus on anything but the centipedes. I dumped the contents of my bag on the floor, and began to rummage about. Lee had packed some spare clothes, and I slipped the shirt on, buttoning up the front. It was large, but serviceable. I ripped up the dress into long strips, and then grabbed the canteen. Gritting my teeth, I poured some over the wound, watching as blood and yellow fluid ran down my leg. I wiped it off with one cloth, and then repeated the action several times before I realized I couldn’t spare any more water.
Then I wrapped my leg up with a piece of cloth, hoping to stop the bleeding. I slipped on Lee’s pants, making a belt out of one of the strips of fabric, and then leaned back, my head pounding.
As I lay there, I realized that I was in serious trouble. Chances were that the centipedes were venomous. Everything in The Green seemed to kill, and if I didn’t find medical help soon, I was quite certain I would die.
7
Viggo
“Viggo, don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me here!”
I jerked awake, trying to flee the sound of Violet’s call ringing in my ears. My forehead impacted on the low ceiling, pain exploding. I cursed, rubbing the spot, my foggy mind and accelerated heart rate making me forget where I was for a second.
The gentle rocking back and forth reminded me, and I groaned, laying back in the bunk. I couldn’t remember most of the nightmare, just the sound of women crying, and Violet begging me not to leave her. I was covered in a cold sweat from the intensity of it, my shirt clinging to me.
I felt something cold and soggy press against my hand, working its way in so it could nuzzle my palm. Looking over, I saw Samuel gazing at me with his big brown eyes. I patted the dog on the head softly. It was oddly comforting to do so, and it helped chase the nightmares away.
I sat there for a few minutes, forcing
the panic and fear away, clearing my mind for the task ahead. Sitting up, I quickly changed my shirt and pants, exchanging them for more durable clothing, capable of handling the extreme dangers of The Green. Shrugging on my coat, I whistled for the dog, and headed up the stairs to the deck of the boat.
The boat belonged to Alejandro Simmons, who stood behind the wheel, peering ahead down the river as the engines pushed us ahead. Alejandro was older, possibly around fifty, and had been navigating the toxic river that divided Patrus and Matrus for nearly thirty years. According to him, he had won the boat in a bet. According to his wife, however, Alejandro had cheated.
Regardless, Alejandro was the only person in Patrus who was willing to brave the toxic waters and navigate the boat upstream to The Green. Actually, Alejandro collected samples from The Green and delivered them to scientists in Patrus to be studied. He was probably an expert on everything in The Green, and had organized several expeditions into the toxic environment.
I had met him when I was in training to become a warden. A part of our induction included a module on how to survive in The Green, and Alejandro had been the instructor. Truthfully, I liked the old man, even if he was a bit crazy.
“Hey yo, boy!” Alejandro crowed. “Glad to see you’re awake. You had me worried there for a bit.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? I’ve only been asleep for a few hours.”
“Try twelve, my friend.”
Pulling out my handheld, I scanned for the time. Whoa. Sure enough, he was right. I’d been out for twelve hours. It made sense, I supposed, considering the last forty-eight hours had been basically sleepless. I checked to make sure Violet’s beacon was still active—it was—and then shut it off.
“You should’ve woken me,” I said, gruffly, moving to stand next to him.
“I ain’t your keeper, boy,” replied Alejandro. “Truth be told, when a man sleeps that deep, it means he’s got problems… Likely lady ones.”
I stood silent, staring at him. Not many people could meet me in the eye for long, but Alejandro did.
“It might help you to talk about it,” he said, arching a bushy white eyebrow.
I refrained from rolling my eyes, but leaned against the rail, crossing my arms. “There isn’t anything to say.”
“Start with her name.”
I gave a quick huff. “Nothing to say, old man,” I repeated.
“I ever tell you how I met my wife?”
“Yes,” I reminded him sardonically. “Repeatedly.”
Alejandro smiled under his beard, the white and brown hairs of his beard parting. “Actually, I’m sure I have. But I might have left out a detail or two. Something that might be relevant to your situation...”
I sighed, knowing that Alejandro was going to keep bringing it up until I let him tell it. “What are the details then?” I muttered.
Alejandro turned the wheel slightly, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “The first is, well, she was already engaged when I met her. To my best friend.”
I shrugged my shoulders and nodded. It wasn’t that surprising, and it wasn’t illegal to steal another man’s woman before they were married. It was typically the reason why men married their women so quickly, within days of the engagement. Once they were married, she was his property in the eyes of the law. That was another reason why I had been intent on cutting things off with Violet after our night of indiscretion.
“All right, what’s the second?” I asked.
“She killed him,” he said flatly, his face forward.
I froze, his words hitting me like a punch. “What happened?”
Alejandro sighed and turned a little to face me. “He was beating her. And my Jenny… she just couldn’t take it anymore. She stabbed him.”
“How did she not get hanged?”
He gave me a look, his face grim. “I lied,” he said simply.
I couldn’t believe it. My friend had just confessed to covering up a murder. He was a criminal.
Then again, so was I. I had done the exact same thing… for two women. He’d just done it better.
“You went in as a neutral witness,” I said, my tone level.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. My family and I lived next door to Marty. Jenny would come over for dinner sometimes, and I could hear them through the walls. I wanted to call the wardens, but...” He trailed off. He had been stuck between his best friend and a woman, and male best friends always won in Patrus, or at least, were supposed to.
“I heard something crash, and raced over to find her, covered with blood. Her blood, his blood. I saw it in her eyes… she knew what she had done, and she knew she was going to swing for it. But I took her hands, and I held her close, and I promised I would help her.”
His words twisted the knife of a wound long past. I could remember saying the same words to my wife. But I had failed her.
“I haven’t seen you in two years, Viggo. You just fell off the face of the planet. You let us visit you at first, after Miriam… but then you just put us off. Until you show up, asking for a ride to The Green. You at least owe me some explanation. I want to make sure what you’re doing… well, that it isn’t going to make you worse.”
After Miriam. The words were hollow in my ears. I had lost her.
And now here I was chasing after Violet, a part of me—to my aggravation—still wanting to protect her, the greater part of me wishing I had never met her.
“I’ll be fine, Alejandro,” I said quietly.
Alejandro stared at me for a long second, and then sighed. “As you say, boy… Might want to go get your gear ready. We’re nearing the drop point.”
I looked over and saw the fences marking the territory of The Green gliding past on the bank. Grabbing my mask, I slipped it on, and started going through my pack. I had all of the gear to survive tucked away in a bag, but it was second nature for me to check and double check.
One by one, I pulled out the items and laid them on the bed. I had five aerosol containers, five days of rations, a water canteen that was capable of pulling water out of the air, my gun, an assortment of pills and ointments to help with animal attacks, a polymer blanket, a lighter, a leash for the dog, an extra set of clothes, and a pair of cuffs. I set them aside to pack last.
I heard Alejandro stomping around above deck, and finished packing. Slinging the pack over my shoulder, I went back on deck. The river was rushing past, the speed picking up. I looked at Alejandro, who was standing at the helm with Samuel, holding the wheel in place.
“Is it always like this?”
Alejandro nodded. “For this stretch. The river banks close into a choke hole, and water moves out faster. It’ll pass once we’re through.”
I looked ahead at the churning water, nodding. Alejandro knew his business, and I knew mine.
“Quiz time, boy.” Holding back a sigh, I grabbed the rail and nodded. “What happens if you attract a red fly swarm?”
“Find a hole, flush it out, and use the aerosols to keep them out,” I recited.
“Good. What happens if you get entangled in orange vine?”
“Don’t panic, and don’t cut it. The sap inside is flammable when exposed to the atmosphere. Track the vine to where it connects to the main plant, and cut out the nodule. It will release.”
Alejandro nodded. “What if you come across a wild boar?”
“Don’t run. It will chase you. Back away slowly and do not make eye contact.”
“Good. Did you bring all the medications for the venom and burns?”
I nodded. “Yup. It’s all in here,” I said, patting my bag.
Alejandro nodded, throttling up the engine. I grabbed Samuel’s collar and braced myself against the rail. It was unlikely that we’d sink, but I didn’t want the dog to lose his balance and get knocked overboard.
“Why are you taking the dog?” Alejandro shouted over the engine, his eyes scanning the panels.
I shrugged. “He might be able to help scent my target,” I called back.
We fell silent as Alejandro navigated the rapids. I’d never actually seen him in his element before, but he handled himself and the boat well, and after a few minutes of bouncing around, we were clear. I released Samuel’s collar, keeping an eye on him as I moved closer to Alejandro, scanning the river. I could see the transition point between The Green and the rest of the world, a black scar cutting through the land.
“I’m going to drop you up ahead,” Alejandro said, pulling the throttle back on the engine. “You’re far enough out of the way that you shouldn’t encounter any patrols, but be careful—tensions are going to be high after the death of Queen Rina.”
I nodded, and held out my hand, shaking his with a firm grip. “Thanks, Alejandro,” I said, and he nodded.
“You’re a good man, Viggo. You just need to get back into the world.”
I didn’t respond, because there was really nothing to say. I watched as we approached the bank of the river on the Matrian side. When we were a few feet away, I reached down and picked up Samuel, holding him tight to my chest.
I took a few steps back to get a running start, and then leapt the gap between boat and land. If I miscalculated, I could have fallen in. I landed squarely on my feet, my knees buckling to absorb the impact. I put Samuel down, hooking a leash to him, and turned.
Alejandro was waving at me. “I’ll be back in one week,” he yelled. “If you can make it upstream five kilometers, there’s a tree that fords the river. Use that to cross to the Patrus side, and I’ll meet you there. If not, signal me on this side with your flashlight.”
I waved a hand over my head, acknowledging his message.
“Oh! And be careful of the mist ghosts!”
For as long as I’d known him, Alejandro had insisted there was something else living in the mist, something not quite human, and not quite animal. Yet no one else had ever seen it.
Rotating my shoulders under my pack, I pulled the handheld out, and fixed Violet’s position.
“C’mon Samuel,” I muttered grimly. “Time to go find Violet.”
The Gender Game 2: The Gender Secret Page 5
